Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Ode to Old Boobs

Back in the day I had a great rack...there, I said it.  I had plenty of body parts to be insecure about, but in reality I really did have a great pair of large yet perky boobs.  When I recall their actual sprouting into existence around the end of 7th grade, boys started to notice.  I was too preoccupied with my zits and "fat thighs" to really give it much thought, but if I had only known then what I know now I could have had a lot more fun.  The thing is that most boys/men never mature past that 7th grade boob fixation and if you are lucky enough to be blessed with big ones you could possibly rule the world.  Let's face it, a group of 45 year old dudes are still reduced to tongue wagging, salivating lunatics by a nice rack that walks by. 

Even as I got older and gained some weight, my boobs grew to a large size by anyone who is normal standards (38 DDD).  I was not in the shape I wanted to be in, but my boobs fared pretty well and still managed to be quite perky and an overall enjoyable addition to my physique.  I always knew my boobs were something to be proud of, but I definitely never gave them the true appreciation they deserved and even worse, I never took pictures of them so I could properly preserve their image.  Of course, in my defense, I had no idea that one day they would be ruined forever.

Oh sure, I knew I would get old and they, being so large, were bound to sag.  I had seen the generations before me go down that road and let's be real, it never ends well.  I remember my grandmother in the nursing home once had a yeast infection develop under her breast, which is horrifying and I use it here as a cautionary tale.  I had mentally planned for these future problems with visions of Fixodent, Boniva, and prune juice swimming around in the same sentence.  What I was not prepared for was to bid a farewell to my luscious lady lumps so early in life.

Getting pregnant may do wonders for any of you gals who are lacking in the mammary department.  I've heard many stories of my petite girlfriends who parade around the house after they are knocked up showing off their new and improved perky Bs or Cs much to their husband's delight.  However, let's discuss what happens when you 're already well endowed.  I considered that my breasts might grow a little but for the most part I figured the growth and changes would be minimal.  I could not have been more wrong.

Almost immediately my boobs began to change.  They grew and grew, and as they did, they took on different shapes.  They quickly went from their former glory to resembling sacks full of sand in a matter of a few months.  They became so heavy that Mike Tyson himself would be knocked out cold with just a sudden twist of my body.  Everyone knows that gravity is a woman's enemy and when each one of your breasts weigh the same as a mid-sized toddler, there is no where to go but DOWN. 

Bra shopping has become a nightmare.  I am no longer welcome in Macys, Dillards, or any other respectable store.  The worst humiliation yet was when I mistakenly thought a maternity store might solve my problem and was waited on by a pixie whom I could have fit in my pocket.  This poor girl was bringing bras back to my dressing room that contained letters I didn't even know existed in the boobie world.  I ended up having to order my bras online at some fat tittie store reserved for big gals like myself and Nell Carter.  The plus side is the garment can easily double as a parachute if I'm ever stranded on top of a burning building or an extra pair of king sized sheets for our bed. 

I realize this all sounds pretty bad, but I haven't even gotten to the worst part.  I will just go ahead and say it...the nips.  The pretty pink ones have gone by the wayside and have been replaced by something used on top of a building that a helicopter could land on.  They also look like they could be fashioned into a leather bag or perhaps a nice pair of cowboy boots. 

I've been told that these changes will remain long after the pregnancy and that breast feeding will only exacerbate the problems.  I guess it's just the first of many sacrifices we as parents make for our precious little crotch fruit.  However, I will ask that we all take a moment of silence and mourn the loss of two great beings that spread joy wherever they went and were gone too soon before their full potential was ever realized.  Rest in peace.