A Few Words about Breasts

June 5th, 2010

I’ve been thinking a lot about breasts lately.

There are two reasons for this.  One is that I went to see a new doctor and, as she did the routine breast exam, she exclaimed several times, “Wow, your breasts are really dense.  REALLY dense.”   It did not seem to be a compliment.  

The other is that my 22-year-old niece just moved in with us, and she has a gorgeous 22-year-old rack.

So there am I, with my aging-nursed-four-kids-each-for-an-entire-year-until-I-couldn’t-take-it-anymore DENSE breasts, and there’s my niece with her gorgeous young voluptuous hoo-hahs–and if you think we haven’t been teasing each other like crazy, you don’t know my family.

“D.B.” is her and my teenage son’s new nickname for me.

Am I jealous of my niece’s gorgeous young high breasts?  Damn straight I am.

Years ago–not many people know this so don’t tell anyone–I considered breast surgery.  I didn’t want anything big or bouncy, I just wanted to get back to what I had before nursing four kids.  With maybe a little more lift.  Actually, a lot more lift.  I wanted my breasts to be where they were supposed to be and not bobbing for apples down around my navel.  I called someone I knew for a recommendation and told her that a, um, “friend of mine” was thinking about getting a boob job.  She said, “You shouldn’t do this.”  I said, “It’s not for me–it’s for a friend.”  She said, “You’ll regret it.  Just work on your posture: standing up straight is better than getting painful, unnecessary surgery.”  I said, “I’ll tell my friend you said that.”  “There are still a lot of risks associated with it,” she said.  “You really should think long and hard about it.”  “My friend takes it very seriously,” I assured her.  “Don’t get a boob job,” she said before hanging up.

So I didn’t.  Instead I discovered water bras which made my chest so firm and big I couldn’t stop feeling myself up.  Now I just get decent padded bras.  Out in public, I look fine.  At home, at night, once the bras come off, I look . . .  like a woman who nursed four kids.

But now I can gaze wistfully at my niece and imagine what it would be like to wear low-cut shirts and look like THAT.

You know what?  It’s really true: youth is wasted on the young.   So are luscious breasts.

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