Friday, June 09, 2006

And the boobs shall be reunited once more....

Everyone likes a good post about boobs. My boobs, in particular, have quite a unique history.

At one point in my life, I had boobs. I thought having boobs was great. They were a pain when it came to such activities as horseback riding... but in all, I felt they were worthwhile.

One day, I got sick. It was a combination of being a crazy person and coming down with mono. It was a rough winter, that much I'll say is for sure.

The pounds starting to fly off me, and at first I was thrilled. The silver lining to the cloud that was trying to kill me! My stomach became flatter, my thighs less jiggly.

Suspiciously, my bras were becoming substantially more roomy.

At one point, it was as though my then C cup bra was completely empty. So, SuperNan took me shopping and indulged me in a whole new wardrobe of bras.

I love bras. I love colored ones, padded ones, character ones; I love bras that have little sayings on them, that are patterned and multi-colored; I love bras that have sparkles and jewels and bows and occasionally, even ones made of lace. So for SuperNan to take me new bra-shopping was thrilling.

Unfortunately, I soon under-grew those bras as well.

I went rapidly from a fairly large C-cup to barely filling out an A-cup.

Berry Queen was thrilled. She laughed, cajoled, made fun, pointed, and giggled. SuperNan dubbed me the Boobless Wonder. My best friend can't get enough of the fact that I was once a well-endowed young woman like her, and now I can shop in the Junior Miss department for my bras. I refuse to own underwear that was designed by Mary Kate and Ashley, dammit. But, if I wanted to, I could. Having options is very freeing.

Berry Queen and I, between us, when neither of us are expecting another addition to the Berry Family, have about enough boobs to suit one regular person. Hence, she has dubbed me the Left Boob. Berry Queen has been dubbed the Right Boob. SuperNan, much to the chagrin of the Left Boob and the Right Boob, has been dubbed the one who actually has boobs.

And in less than a week's time, The Boobs shall be reunited once more, in the berry cave where we can play in our group (Which, when we go on the road, we'll call the Boobs) until late at night, and create strawberry creations for all the county to consume. We can pick fruit, clean fruit, lobb fruit, have fruit thrown at our heads; we can cry over fruit, laugh over fruit, sing about fruit; we can detest fruit, eat fruit, love fruit, and hate fruit.

It is fruit that will bring the Boobs together once more. So, even when we've had fruit lobbed across the property; even after the most foul-mouthed of customers have made us cry; when the fruit-rot sets in and the Trottenberries start rolling out: it is fruit we have to thank, for without fruit, I would never be leaving the depths of the SubShack for three weeks, to spend time with my favorite ladies.

Or, shall I say, my favorite Boobs.



Blogger NursePam said...

Now that is the most interesting side effect of mono that I have ever heard. Having been relatively boobless most of my life, I find myself in middle age fitting into a B cup. To think I prayed for bigger boobs as a teenager only to discover that I really miss my teeny tiny boobies. As well as my teeny tiny thighs, arms, and pancake flat tummy ;^)

However, there is a good chance that after giving birth you will once again be back to larger boobs.

Great post.

1:10 p.m.  
Anonymous bigman78 said...

Amanda, you are perfect just the way you are.

R. Jones

8:10 a.m.  
Blogger Anastasia said...

hmmm nice comments. Girl that was some funny stuff. Did you cry wen you wrote it b/c that was awesome

11:12 p.m.  

Post a Comment

<< Home