This One Is For The Ladies

I'm going to write about something that I hope that all the male readers out there know nothing about. Feel free to skip right over this if you must. You have been warned!

Most of you know that I'm a big girl. Always have been. Big girls need big bras. I've been wearing underwire bras since high school because my mother insisted that I get used to it. You see, my mother was a 40 F. Yes, you heard me right, she was huge. Not grossly huge, but huge. My mother had been that size since the age of 12. I cannot even imagine.

Her whole life, she was known by the size of her breasts. Those things had a mind of their own. She pushed people around with them. You could be having a conversation with her and all of a sudden her boobs were in your face and space. She could herd people like cattle. We would be working in the kitchen and I would ask her where something was and she would point you in the general direction by using her breasts.

As you can imagine, men loved her. She has a sparkling personality to go along with the set God gave her so they (her and her boobs) were always the life of the party.

Her breasts defined who she was. She would never hear of having them made smaller even though they affected everything she did. She had to buy shirts 2 sizes bigger just to fit over the girls. In order to play golf, she would have to tuck her boobs under her arms in order to swing. Quite amusing to watch people's reactions around us on the golf course. *snicker*

I'm talking about her size in the past tense because last May she had a breast reduction done. She had terrible shoulder problems and the doctor told her that the only thing that would correct it was breast reduction surgury. She thought about it for months and after much suffering decided to go for it. She was very sad and I told her to cheer up because they would be perky. She didn't know that they lifted them too. She was ecstatic!

I got to be her nurse afterward. I had to change the bandages and apply ointment. At first they looked Frankenstein-ish because she had been cut from under her arms, all the way around below her breasts, then staight up to the nipple, and then both areolas were cut off, their size reduced and reattached. I have never been so sick of seeing boobs in my life. Especially since they were fabulously firm and perky! They are now 38 B's and perfect. Bitch! Just kidding, I'm happy for her.

Why am I talking about my mother's huge boobs? I can't remember....oh, I remember now. I was trying to lead into my over the shoulder boulder holders otherwise known as bras.

When Mr. Sign and I were dating, he went into my mother's room to change his clothes. He came out with eyes as big as saucers. I asked him what was wrong. He said that he had seen my mom's bra and he wanted to know if mine were ever going to grow up like hers. Men! Sheesh!

Back to my bras. As I mentioned before, my mother had taught me to wear underwires. While I was at work today, my underwire snapped. I thought, "No problem, I can just wear it this way even though my left boob was all deformed looking now. It's not like I can go without one."

The day progressed and unfortunately the wire worked it's way through the material and cut into my breast. It hurt so bad but I decided to tough it out. The pain was unbearable and when I got home, I took my bra off (as I always do, so if you are coming to visit you might want to call first) and it was soaked in blood! Ugh! How attractive is that?

So, I ask you, who invented these torture devices anyway?

So which style of bra should I choose to replace the one I wrecked

today?

Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too.