I'm a Big Girl Now

New Year's Eve I wore a very low-cut dress. I had to squeeze myself into it. It was embarrassing. BigB had to help me zipper the thing up. BUT, lemme tell you, my girls looked GOOD. I felt more than a little self-conscious, but BigB was practically begging me to wear it while wiping up his drool with his sleeve.

We headed out for the evening. Our first stop for the evening was two window seats at a little swanky bar. The valet outside, I swear, was staring at my little ladies through the window. He unabashedly oogled his way not once, but three times past our window. Didn't matter that BigB could've thrown him to the ground and made him into a mincemeat pie.

The waiter walked by, looked down into the cleavage, and muttered some uninteligeable guttural sounds, similar to the dad in the Christmas Story as he watched his Christmas Turkey get devoured by the Bumpkis' dogs. Couldn't discern a word.

As we crossed the street to the restaurant, some very drunk college boy stopped my husband and asked, "is this your sister? cuz she looks really good." Again, BigB could have tromped the little sophomore with one hand tied behind his back, but this kid thought my chest worth the risk.

I was loving it. Almost made the six months of breastfeeding worth it. I felt pretty powerful and made me think about all the girls out there with a lifetime of huge melons and what they're able to manipulate. But alas, I did wean sweet LadyBug so I imagine this prowess is short lived. I didn't MEAN to wean her...it was supposed to be a gradual thing, but as soon as I stopped pumping at work it just completely dried up. Now it's just a matter of time before I'm back to my B's.