So on the 4th of July, I was hanging out with two friends of mine. We were laying on towels, visiting and soaking up the rare summer sunshine that Mother Nature has chosen to withhold from us this year. The kids were swimming and entertaining us with their childish antics.
Stella had gotten out of the pool and was standing in front of our towels, with the sun at her back. She was making “shadows” on our bodies with her hands. “Stacie, I am grabbing your boob,” Stella says as she erupts in laughter. It was rather funny. I rolled over to see a shadow hand, squeezing Stacie’s unsuspecting breast. She then walked over to Michelle, and did the same. We all laughed. Stella is a child that is always saying something, or doing something to push the envelope of appropriate behavior. I suspect she gets that from me. And I am truly sorry that I passed on that trait. But what can I do? Stifle the child? I guess some would suggest just that, but somehow I can’t. She is a very funny little girl. And I’ve always found that having a great sense of humor is an amazing quality. And personally, I love funny people.
Anyway, Stella gets around to doing her shadow hands on me, and she pauses. She giggles. She says, “Mom, when I look at Stacie and Michelle, I see ‘mountains.’ You? Not so much!” I laughed. And before I could reply, Sophia chimes in with, “Yeah, Mom, most guys like big boobs.” I laughed again. Then I gave my response, “Not all guys.”
Then I told them, it was fortunate that I didn’t suffer from particularly low self esteem. I also explained that having a small chest wasn’t the worse thing in the world – at least not to me. They ended this “small” conversation by telling me that they were certain they’d have bigger boobs than me. “Well, if that’s what you want, then I sure hope so,” was my answer.
But it got me thinking about boobs. . . breasts. . .the girls. . . or toddlers, in my case -- or whatever term you choose to use when discussing them. They are a big (or small) deal to people. All people. Apparently even my little people. I know the girls’ and their friends talk about the process of “developing” and how they think they will look and how they want to look.
I suppose it’s a blessing that the size of my chest doesn’t bother me. It seems to bother everyone around me much more. My girls have told me as much. I’ve been told by friends a time or two that “I’d look great with bigger boobs.”
But mark my words. . . Small boobs will make a comeback. And when they do. . . I’ll be ready.