Handing Out Cheap Thrills

As a woman, I have boobs. I was "blessed" with a solid C cup, which grows to a D cup when I gain weight, and then when I get pregnant, they may be double-Ds. They're frightening at this point. I liked my C cups, they were a nice perfect size, I thought. These things that I am currently hauling around? Are not. They are big and they don't fit in shirts and they get in the way. The plastic surgery I'm going to get in the future is going to involve removing some boob and making them perky, because I've never had perky ones.

Maternity clothes are funny, especially when it comes to boobs. There are, apparently, a lot of women out there who are excited by their new curves and bigger boobs when they get pregnant. There are many many many drop neck, V neck, boobilicious maternity shirts, which I mostly shun. And yet, I have two simple black shirts that show cleavage.

Today, I wore a beige sweater. Luke was in his monkey costume for a playgroup and we found out that the monkey costume leaches dye like the dye-leaching whore it is, and my beige sweater was COVERED in brown. So I had to change shirts. I threw on a black boobie shirt.

And then the window guy came over to measure the windows for replacement, which will happen in 2-3 weeks and it makes me giddy to think about not freezing my butt off in the house even though the thermostat is at 70. Which is approximately how old 'Shaw' the window guy was, too.

It's been awhile since Shaw's seen pregnancy-enhanced-boobies, I'd say, since he was pretty involved in conversation with them. Which made me pull at my shirt while he measured windows to try and hide the cleavage. It did not work. I guess old window guys need cheap thrills, too.