Dear Twenty Something Girl I Heard Complaining About Her Small Boobs at the Big Y Yesterday,
I heard you talking, so I couldn’t help but check out your boobs.
Let me tell you, you have nothing to complain about. You have great boobs. And in 25 years, you will still have great boobs.
In high school the girls used to say that you were ready for a bra if you put a pencil under your boob and it stayed there. I easily passed that test.
But let me tell you, 25 years and a total of 37 months of breatfeeding later, I can now hold a small child under one of my boobs.
You, on the other hand, are in luck.
In 25 years, you may still be able to go braless. Without discomfort. Or embarrassment.
When the exterminator shows up 20 minutes early and you answer the door, braless and in a tank top, you won’t need to cross your arms over your chest and hold on for dear life.
When you go running, you won’t have to wear multiple sports bras at the same time.
When you put a bathing suit on, you won’t have to reach inside and manually pull your boobs up to their desired location.
When you go bra shopping, you won’t need to check out the bras with 3 (or more) clasps on the back and straps that look like they have maxipads attached to them.
When you are sitting at the computer at 5:00 in the morning, braless and in your pajamas and leaning over a little bit, you won’t pick up your boobs and rest them on top of the desk while you type.
When you are wearing pants with pockets in them, the pockets won’t serve as a place for you to put your keys, or… your boobs.
Nope. Ladies everywhere will look at your boobs and be jealous.
So you embrace those perky suckers, and find something else to worry about.
The (Really Jealous) Lady at the Big Y Who You Caught Staring at Your Boobs
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