In the past, my breasts were dependable companions. They were positioned as intended, remaining upright and requiring minimal adjustment. In essence, they were steadfast. However, after nursing five children, I began to notice signs of rebellion. My once-trustworthy breasts started to sag, deviating from what I considered acceptable. Now, they can easily be rolled up like a burrito, and my morning routine feels like preparing a Thanksgiving turkey, complete with stuffing. They are no longer “at attention” or even “at ease.” Instead, they exhibit such laziness that once positioned, they have the uncanny ability to point in any direction imaginable. My final glance in the mirror before heading out now involves checking for a rogue breast. Sometimes it’s hard to know where to look, as they can be pointing in completely disparate directions. I can only imagine the confusion it causes for unsuspecting onlookers.
Yet, none of these acts of defiance compare to their ultimate betrayal. I have a penchant for purchasing Groupons — I buy them, forget about them, and then scramble to use them before they expire. Recently, I bought a massage Groupon for my birthday but forgot to schedule an appointment until the last minute. The only available therapist was a gentleman, whom I affectionately dubbed my “mansuesse.” Before having children, I enjoyed the strength of a male therapist; they apply firm pressure and, crucially, tend to remain silent for the entire session. However, now I felt compelled to warn him, “Five kids… the old mare isn’t what she used to be.” Nevertheless, I bravely booked my last-minute massage and hoped for the best.
At first, everything went smoothly. The massage began, and I was enveloped in blissful silence. However, during a particularly relaxing moment, as my mansuesse lifted my arm to work on my shoulders, my breast that had been discreetly tucked under the covers made an unexpected escape. In my pre-motherhood days, such an event would have been unthinkable. Yet, on that day, my rebellious breast made a bold move. As George Michael sang “Freedom” in the background, my breast seemed to yearn for its moment in the spotlight.
In that split second, I froze, contemplating my options. I opted for denial, convinced that if I kept my eyes closed and never acknowledged the situation, it wouldn’t exist. I lay perfectly still, attempting to embody the image of a tranquil client. My mansuesse probably didn’t buy my act for a second, but if I could just pretend the incident hadn’t happened, perhaps he wouldn’t notice either. Of course, the absurdity of my logic was evident, as these were not small ‘A’ cups, but post-baby ‘DD’ cups — impossible to overlook. I silently cursed my defiant breasts and vowed never to seek another massage.
Fortunately, my astute mansuesse quickly lowered my arm and discreetly adjusted the covers, returning them to their assigned place. I could almost hear my breasts sigh in relief. However, as I exited the massage room with a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief, I was greeted not with shock, but instead with a glass of water and the unexpected question, “Would you like to book your next appointment?” Surprised, I quickly composed myself, cursed my rebellious breasts once more, and decided to schedule another massage — albeit with a generous tip for the poor man who had witnessed the chaos.
This experience taught me to be prepared for the unexpected when it comes to my breasts. They seem to have a mind of their own, and I can only imagine where they might pop up next. In the meantime, I’ll continue to seek massages, finding humor in the situation whenever he adjusts my sheets. A well-deserved laugh, indeed.
For those interested in fertility, consider exploring the at-home insemination kit or check out the fertility booster for men. If you’re looking for more extensive options, the IVF treatment is an excellent resource for pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary:
This humorous reflection on motherhood and body changes highlights the unpredictable nature of post-pregnancy experiences, particularly concerning breast appearance. The narrative combines humor with relatable insights, illustrating the author’s journey through unexpected scenarios, ultimately embracing the chaos of motherhood.
Leave a Reply