From all of the internet chatter, I have gathered that today is something ridiculous like “National No-Bra Day”, and while I am absolutely NOT participating in this made-up-for-who-the-fuck-knows-what-reason-probably-by-a-dude-just-to-see-some-nipples holiday, it did remind me about some trouble i’ve been having lately.
BUT JENNY- YOU DON’T HAVE BOOBS! AREN’T YOU A CARD CARRYING MEMBER OF THE ITTY-BITTY-TITTY-COMMITTEE???
Why yes, yes I am. And while you might think that having mosquito bites where many women have annoyingly heavy heaving bosoms (yeah, i’m lookin’ at you Perry. Put that shit away, you’ve already burned Elmo’s retinas) means that I don’t wear bras- you’d be wrong.
Personally, I like bras. I don’t find them to be confining, annoying, torture devices built by men to ‘keep us down’ or whatever the hell it is that bra-burners think.
There’s just something about free-boobin’ that I find to be horribly uncomfortable, and i’d really rather give off the illusion of actually HAVING boobs and a teensy bit of cleav. Only way to do that when ya don’t? Bra. Hail to the Bra!!
I would own a bra for every single day of the week if I could actually afford it- but for some reason un-fucking-known to me, a bra that doesn’t give you cone-tit or look like something that came out of your grandmother’s attic costs a small fortune. Yeah yeah, Target and places like that sell them for cheap- I guess my skeeters just have expensive taste.
This expensiveness of boulder-holders (or pebble holders if we’re being picky about terminology here) really didn’t work in my favor when I got pregnant with the kids and my mini-boob expanded to giant perky porn-star boobs. Sure, I was a fan- it was fantabulous! BOOBS! FINALLY! THANK YOU BOOB FAIRY!
But had to immediately go out and buy a bunch of NEW bras with which to contain bosom that I could actually consider ‘heaving’- I mean I HAD to, no one wants a bra so small you get the boob-bubble effect- and I suppose there was a part of me (A GIANT BOOB LOVING PART) that hoped they would stick around long after i’d expelled a child from my lady-bits. Then I could have big boobs and nice new things to put them in.
Yeah well, it’s a no-brainer that when it came to boobage I was not one of the lucky ones. Not only did the boobs shrink, but I swear to the sweet home-birthed baby Jesus that they got SMALLER. And no, not from breastfeeding- this mama never had milk come in (and let’s not relive that boob queefing experience with the pump again)- the Boob Fairy is just an evil bitch who skipped over me, and didn’t want something as silly as a baby give me when she intentionally did not. Greedy twatburger.
So then you might assume that because I didn’t get to keep the boobs, in a moment of pure bitter hatred, I took the big bras and burned them… and then peed on the ashes, right?
I mean, why keep bras around if I obviously can’t wear them without looking like i’m wearing armor fashioned by a medieval blacksmith because it sits SO far off of my chest?
I didn’t. I still have them. Every last one of them, from both friggin’ pregnancies.
Look, I don’t believe in a lot of old wives tales, because if a single one of them were true, i’d have dueling vaginas in this house instead of sword-fighting peckers- but there is one that bit my ass in the ass, and it’s the one that says the MOMENT you get rid of the last article of your baby clothes- you’d better get a stick to piss on because you’ll end up pregnant again faster than you can say “CONDOM!” I have proof of this one, solid, simple proof, and his name is Parker. I figure if I bought those tit-slings FOR pregnancy, and I get rid of said tit-slings- it will have the same effect on my stupid bitch-ass of a uterus that baby clothes did.
It makes sense to me.
So yes, I still have them. They are still in my bra drawer. They are actually OVERFLOWING my bra drawer, almost taunting me every time I open it to grab one that actually does fit my itty-bitties. I actually spend a good amount of time fighting with those stupid things to get them to fit back into the drawer after pulling one out, just to be able to close it again.
And so now I bet you’re thinking, “Well, why don’t you put those things away? Just put them in a box and pack them away so they stop bothering you. I’ve never heard of an urban legend that has anything to do with putting bras away in a closet.”
And that’s because there isn’t one. I’m just lazy.
Don’t judge me.
The “Are You Ready to Have Kids?” Checklist of Doom goo.gl/fb/DTPJ1A
If anyone asks how I died, you can just go ahead and tell them "she was lured in by free pie in exchange for listening to 2nd graders screech Thanksgiving songs for 30 minutes"
I'm not saying this is the perfect #Christmas gift for all the parents in your life, but.... okay, yeah I am. That's exactly what I'm saying. Truths from the bowels of parenthood! amazon.com/Kids-Are-Turds…
@Gofashiondeals All of that and more. Good times. Gooooood times