|A Lovely Pair of Melons|
There are several reasons I should not go out shopping on my own, I spend too much, my feet get sore, I eat nice things from Starbucks and if I just so happen to see another woman that I know, another adult, these creatures I don't spend much time with, I tend to talk utter shite.
In a way this blog is an apology to the lovely lady that had the unfortunate experience of meeting me today.
In my defence I had just been and done something that I have not done in over three years, so before babies and before current reduction in clothes size, I got the ladies measured, the boobies looked at, the twins sorted out.
The actual experience of having my boobs measured was not too bad, I am not repulsed anymore when I see my semi nakedness in the mirror, so I manned up and allowed another person, a stranger to see me in my bra, albeit an ill fitting one.
A few tweaks here, a few pulls there and couple of pokes and it was sorted, slightly confused that I am actually two different sizes however, the most jaw dropping part of the experience was the wonderfully fitting bra that this lady had found for me, that made the girls look like they were 18 (well 28) again, was going to cost me, £58!!, for a fucking bra! Excuse my french.
I kindly declined her offer and ran to primark! I can get 25 bras for that price in there.
And that is when I met a very lovely lady that I know from taking the kids to nursery etc, I have met her maybe 5 times in total.
And without stopping for a breath, I say "How lovely to see you, how are the kids, I have just had my boobs measured, first time since the kids, let me tell you the size of them (at this point I think I was actually cupping my boobs) , I am confused about being two sizes etc etc boobs, etc boobs etc".
I come to my senses, apologise for my instant boob chat and wish her well, hoping that she does not run in the opposite direction the next time we see each other.
Like I say, I really should not be allowed out on my own.