Adventures in boob land

You would think that after nearly 3 decades of dealing with the wardrobe repercussions of the overly generous nature of the boob fairy I'd have learned by now what my clothing limitations are. Strapless? Yeah, not so much. Tube tops? Not an option. Halter tops? I'd need a neck like Lou Ferrigno!

For the most part I'm aware of my options, but every so often I'm seduced by something pretty, and I forget the substantial mountain range that resides just below my collar bones.

I know I've said this before, but I have what is referred to as very dense breast tissue. This pretty much means that you could pop my tits off, launch them into orbit, plug the hole in the ozone, and substantially increase the number of lunar eclipses each year, thereby throwing multiple systems of astronomical divination into chaos and disorder, resulting in the collapse of several of the worlds religions.

But I digress.

Yesterday I went out to lunch with Becky, Lisa, and Lisa's daughter Hannah. After a really nice meal at the Celtic Cafe, we went downtown to Kindred Spirits, one of our favorite stores. I was looking at clothing, and found a beautiful, long, dark green dress that I fell in love with and HAD to have. I checked the size, and bought it without looking any further, or trying it on.

Big mistake.

Had I looked a little more closely at the top of the dress, I would have realized that there was no way my sweater puppies were going to fit into this particular kennel. I pulled the dress out of the bag when I got home and tried it on. The top was so tight around my chest I could barely breathe, and my girls...

Have you ever tried to hold on to a handful of jello? No matter how hard you squeeze, the jello will always find a way to come out. And that's pretty much what happened .

Half of my left breast ended up in my armpit, the other half was somewhere around my earlobe. My right breast made a break for my knee, but ended up trapped where my left breast would have been had it not been in my armpit and under my earlobe.

I tried rearranging the girls with limited success. At one point I ended up looking as if I had 4 breasts, which would have doubled my chances of landing a date with a boob man. But then I realized that any man who'd find the thought of a 4 breasted woman appealing probably has unresolved breastfeeding issues, or lives in his parents basement surrounded by Star Wars and Battlestar Galactica figures, and really, who wants that?

So after much lugging and tugging, I took the dress off, put it back in the bag, and resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to have to return it.