My Milkshake

....This post is dedicated to my sisters with tiny "assets", just like me. May we learn to work with what we've got (or rather don't "got") or find a good plastic surgeon....

It's no secret. My cups do not runneth over.

The good Lord blessed me with an exceptionally steady hand for applying mascara, an endless amount of sarcasm and an uncanny ability to poof hair.

But give me boobies, he did not.

However, my small assets recently became the center of attention at the Pinnacle Hills Promenade Victoria's Secret store. That fateful winter's day would forever change my life.

............................................................

Before the story, I wanted to say a few positive things about we ladies with itty bitty...you know. So, to make all of the girls in the IBT club feel better, I decided to make a list of pros to having smaller boobies:

1. We can go bra-less with those backless dresses.
2. Runway models are rarely bigger than an A cup.
3. In Europe, it's said men prefer smaller chested women. (I'm not sure I buy this, but I'd love to meet this blind, European man they speak of.)
4.  It's unlikely that we'd be the one killed in the horror movie, such as in a shower scene, because that never happens to ladies with small boobs. 


...................................................................

This all leads up to the story I'm going to tell you now:

There was recently a mortifying moment that I forgot to tell y'all about, which happened a couple weeks ago. And because I am shameless and will make a joke or tell an embarrassing story at my own expense, here goes:

I was in Victoria's Secret the other day (this was before I discovered the gem also known as the Target lingerie department) and asked the sales associate if they had any more bras in a particular color.

"Any more in the bright yellow?", I ask her.

(Why yellow? Why NOT? Life is short. Wear colorful undergarments.)

"We might have some in the back," she replies.

Then she asks my size.

I tell her.

She analyzes my chest with a discerning look on her face. The face of somebody who has seen her share of boobs. The good, the bad and the just plain unsightly.

(Now....wait for it...)

She literally YELLS to the other associate on the other side of the room, "Do we have any more of the tiny ones in yellow??!!"

(There were approximately 12 people standing within earshot, whose eyes quickly made their way to my bosom.)

And then I die.

Right there between the bustiers and the cardboard cut-out of Adriana Lima.

(I think even Adriana felt bad for me at that point. "Awww, poor small-chested Amer-eee-can girl! If only I could share my beeeg, Brazilian ta-tas with you...")

And then I come back to life, I gather my thoughts, look the sales associate square in her poorly made-over face (she obvi hadn't had a foundation match in a long time) and say the first thing that pops into my mind:

"Yes. My milkshake must bring all the boys to the yard, cuz it sure ain't "the twins".

.......................................................................

And in case you aren't familiar with the classic melody from which the above quip is derived, allow me to introduce you to Kelis here. I'd embed the video, but Kelis wasn't feeling like wearing day-time appropriate clothing today. And my grandma reads this blog.

You see, Kelis wrote a whole song about why sisters with tiny ta-ta-ta's should use their derrieres to woo men if they aren't blessed "up top". And I couldn't agree more.

Her basic philosophy is, shake what your mama gave ya.

And shake, Kelis does.

..............................................................................

From Kelis, Adriana Lima and myself, we wish you a very happy weekend. You, and your "girls".

Be blessed, lovelies-