In which I talk a lot about my boobs...

I was a late bloomer. I got made fun of a lot in middle school for being "as flat as the wall". So then I just assumed I was. Then I got to high school and I still considered myself flat chested. It shows you how self-aware and self-assured I was that one of my friends had to point it out to me. ("Quit making flat-chested jokes about yourself, you have bigger boobs than all of us." "I do?") Quickly, I sort of moved from one extreme to the other. I remember several times in the next few years I had to physically move a boys face up by the chin so they'd be looking me in the eyes. I was stacked, which was fine at eighteen, but gravity begins to take its toll by thirty.

And then I got pregnant.

OhmiGod! I didn't think they could get any bigger. And I know that they will just keep growing. I swear if this kid doesn't breastfeed properly we are going to have words because the thought of lugging these puppies around for another nine months is sort of driving me crazy. And really, it was attempting to zip the girls into this dress that tipped me off to the impending motherhood before anything else.
Sincerely,
Chesty McKnockers