Theory of my relativity
“Are you wearing a bra?”
One might have taken that as a rather uninspired pick-up line overheard back in the day.
In a land where college fraternity boys roam free on Saturday nights, staggering their way through the barrage of IQ-challenged co-eds, desperately hoping they might get lucky.
But that was then.
This is now.
Instead, the location was the dinner table and the sentence was uttered by my own husband in a voice equal in interest as that of “Hey, is the mail here yet?”
So excuuuuuse me if it hit a nerve.
“What?” I asked and stared in confusion across the table, mouth agape with fork stopping in midair.
He reached over to poke a finger at my mid-chest region.
“Hmmm, I guess you are,” he muttered in disappointment. “I just thought...,” then hesitated when he noticed my eyebrows had joined in the middle of my forehead and my fork had begun moving sideways to hover over his oh-so-private-area, “...Uh...that...maybe...you weren’t,” he continued.
And that’s where he could have stopped the sentence.
COULD have.
SHOULD have.
But, alas, did NOT.
He then opened his mouth to sign, seal and deliver his own death sentence with, “Because they look kinda saggy.”
Oh.
My.
God.
So this is what a stroke feels like??!
“Are you actually saying my boobs are saggy?” I screamed with indignation.
On a side note, you don’t get a lot of screaming with indignation nowadays unless you are a regular on reality television or a presidential nominee denying tax evasion. But I’m pretty sure that’s just what I did.
At least, that’s what the neighbors told the city’s finest when they showed up to take official statements.
Me? I’m not so sure.
That’s the point when everything went a little hazy. So I can honestly say I have no idea how the fork ended up THERE.
***
OK, I admit.
The gals hang a bit lower thanks to the passage of time, the force of gravity and giving birth four years ago.
“It’s great!” every woman who’d had a child assured me. “Having kids will give you bigger boobs! It makes nine months of puking your guts out worth it!”
Sure, the experience resulted in a bigger cup size. Oh, but the inhumanity that quickly followed.
Sir Isaac Newton said it best. “Each particle of matter attracts every other particle with a force which is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them.”
That pesky law of universal gravitation.
Usually physicists apply it to its effect on planetary bodies. But we humans like to blame it for its effects on OUR bodies too.
To put it in everyday language - my boobs got bigger…but thanks to God’s diabolical sense of humor, it just gave the universe more weight with which to pull ‘em down.
And there ain’t enough under-wire, superglue or duct tape on the planet to haul ‘em back up to their original position.
At least they keep my belly button in the shade.
(originally published June 3, 2009)
One might have taken that as a rather uninspired pick-up line overheard back in the day.
In a land where college fraternity boys roam free on Saturday nights, staggering their way through the barrage of IQ-challenged co-eds, desperately hoping they might get lucky.
But that was then.
This is now.
Instead, the location was the dinner table and the sentence was uttered by my own husband in a voice equal in interest as that of “Hey, is the mail here yet?”
So excuuuuuse me if it hit a nerve.
“What?” I asked and stared in confusion across the table, mouth agape with fork stopping in midair.
He reached over to poke a finger at my mid-chest region.
“Hmmm, I guess you are,” he muttered in disappointment. “I just thought...,” then hesitated when he noticed my eyebrows had joined in the middle of my forehead and my fork had begun moving sideways to hover over his oh-so-private-area, “...Uh...that...maybe...you weren’t,” he continued.
And that’s where he could have stopped the sentence.
COULD have.
SHOULD have.
But, alas, did NOT.
He then opened his mouth to sign, seal and deliver his own death sentence with, “Because they look kinda saggy.”
Oh.
My.
God.
So this is what a stroke feels like??!
“Are you actually saying my boobs are saggy?” I screamed with indignation.
On a side note, you don’t get a lot of screaming with indignation nowadays unless you are a regular on reality television or a presidential nominee denying tax evasion. But I’m pretty sure that’s just what I did.
At least, that’s what the neighbors told the city’s finest when they showed up to take official statements.
Me? I’m not so sure.
That’s the point when everything went a little hazy. So I can honestly say I have no idea how the fork ended up THERE.
***
OK, I admit.
The gals hang a bit lower thanks to the passage of time, the force of gravity and giving birth four years ago.
“It’s great!” every woman who’d had a child assured me. “Having kids will give you bigger boobs! It makes nine months of puking your guts out worth it!”
Sure, the experience resulted in a bigger cup size. Oh, but the inhumanity that quickly followed.
Sir Isaac Newton said it best. “Each particle of matter attracts every other particle with a force which is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them.”
That pesky law of universal gravitation.
Usually physicists apply it to its effect on planetary bodies. But we humans like to blame it for its effects on OUR bodies too.
To put it in everyday language - my boobs got bigger…but thanks to God’s diabolical sense of humor, it just gave the universe more weight with which to pull ‘em down.
And there ain’t enough under-wire, superglue or duct tape on the planet to haul ‘em back up to their original position.
At least they keep my belly button in the shade.
(originally published June 3, 2009)
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