Boob Job

It's good to know my boobs are good for something now that Baby Jaws is finished with them. We went out to eat twice on Friday, something that rarely happens. The boys and I met my husband for lunch at Taco Bell. After we had finished eating and an entire morning of holding it in, I had my chance to go pee all by myself.

Have you ever tried to pee with two little boys, one of whom can't walk yet? This is the one thing I dare not attempt unless Baby Jaws is restrained in the stroller and I happen upon a stall large enough to park a Hummer inside. I can pee with one boy at a time. I have even peed with Baby Jaws sitting on my lap. It's a wonderful talent to have, balancing a 22 lb shark on your lap while peeing then having the grace to take care of things, button up, zip up, flush and get out of there.

Back to the new use for my boobs. I was finally able to give my bladder the peace it had been longing for all morning when I looked down and saw taco shell on my boob. I don't know how long it had been there. I don't know how many people saw me walk to the restroom with it perched atop my boob. I blamed my husband for not telling me because if there is anything in the vicinity of my boobs, he's sure to spot it. I find this hard to believe, but on this day, he claimed he wasn't looking.

Later that evening, we went out for pizza. After a few bites, I looked down to see pizza sauce on my shirt. Where might you ask? Right on my boob. Being extremely irritated that this had happened for the second time of the day, I grumbled, "There's pizza on my boob."

I should know better than to mention any PG-13 body part in front of my preschooler. Big Brother overheard and yelled, "There's pizza on my boob! HAHAHAHA!"

You should see me when we go to a buffet. I could feed a small army with my boob crumbs. It's like having my own bib with the big pocket to catch any food that falls from my mouth. If I ever get hungry, there's a smorgasbord of leftovers waiting on my boobs.