Hugs Shmugs

I'm not the world's prettiest hugger. I tend to stick out my rear end while I'm doing it, and then there was that time my ex's uncle informed me I wasn't breathing while I hugged and that I really must start breathing to maximize the hug. Apparently it never occurred to him that my tension might be directly related to his insistent offers of back massages, on the kitchen counter, naked. Or his repeated attempts to get us to bathe under the blissful outdoor shower, which had no walls, and was clearly visible from his bedroom.

Despite the questionable source of the advice, I've never been able to hug anyone since without making a concerted effort to properly breathe whilst doing so. This means that sometimes I hang on too long or grip too tight as I concentrate on my lung work, and too often my breath comes out like the ones you might take under the study of a stethescope. But if there's one thing I'll break out the good breathy hugs for... it's food. Just today I almost hugged the Starbucks case when I noticed vanilla cupcakes were back in stock. I've never tried one before but have been told on good tastebud authority that they're surprisingly delish. And I've really been jonesing for a tasty treat. So please pardon me now while I go give one a big toothy hug. With my mouth.

pic c/o at the end of the line