If the Bra Fits. . .

I lack knowledge in certain areas.

For instance, I’m 98 percent certain that I am not wearing the right bra size.

I think I was fitted for a bra at one point, but I lack any memory of it. It’s possible I had a  stroke during the experience because at 13, everything was mortifying.

Speaker7 would you like more brocolli?

Oh my god, mom!! You’re totally embarrassing me right now!!!!

I think I wore the right bra size the majority of my developed-breast life because I never thought much about it.

But now? Shit seems wrong.

I’ve never been a big woman. My bra size was near the beginning of the alphabet, and I had to rely on my wit and Cher impression to attract men.

My breasts went through a bit of change when I was creating that human in my womb three-plus years ago. One of them got comically bigger than the other during the whole mom-is-cow phase. The bigger one was like a factory farm. The other was like “pffftttt….what’s on TV?”

They both deflated down to what I thought was my normal size when my son began to use his few teeth and I decided the bottle was best.

But all my old bras feel like torture devices.

I tried the “genie bra” but stuck that back into the bottle.

I thought I had some kind of hernia. I would struggle up into a sitting position and feel like I had hooked my rib cage onto some barbed wire.

I told my doctor about this and he diagnosed me with a bum gall bladder.

Turned out he was right, but even sans gall bladder I still get this weird rib sensation that makes me feel like I consumed a McRib. It becomes allievated once I remove my over-the-shoulder-flabby-pebble holder.

I feel at 40, I should be able to get a handle on this situation. I mean, I barely comb my hair anymore when I go out in public…yet dealing with my breasts make me revert to my awkward braces-on-teeth 13-year-old self.

Maybe I need to remove another organ?

Speaker7 is wearing a bra while she writes a post every day as part of the Nano Poblano Team. The bra is pretty uncomfortable. 

Hooter-rific!

Mother’s Day is quickly approaching.

Before you resort to yanking a handful of dandelions out of the yard and purchasing this card:

consider taking Mom here:

Hooter’s is offering moms a free meal on Mother’s Day as long as they bring proof of their mommyhood like a child or a photograph of their stretched out uteri, which will then be placed on the Hooter’s Loves Your Cooter bulletin board.

Apparently Hooter’s is having trouble attracting a female client base. Hm. That’s puzzling. Maybe ladies aren’t into the oversexualization and objectification of the Hooter’s girls or the rape den-like atmosphere?

But a free meal!?! Well then get me a white T-shirt, spray me with a hose and let me wrestle in jello because I am so there, buddy. With my child too!

Let marketing wizard Dave Henniger explain: “We know you don’t think of Hooters as a typical place to take Mom, but we want to make it more appealing for Mom to come in. We view Mom as a pair of tits with legs too.”

“And we have salad, ladies, so you don’t get all fat on us!”

Happy Mother’s Day, everyone.