Boobalicious

Haul out several giant soap boxes. Stack them several stories high. Climb on top. Here we go.

Boobs have really received the slimy banana peel end of far too many jokes, songs, commercials, and lurid photography. Because of all this feminine "liberation" in the 70s those of us who'd rather keep the girls strapped in than flaunt them in a two-inch triangle bikini are left in a pickle. We've retreated to the polar opposite viewpoint. We resent our chest because it represents a nasty cultural aberration rather than celebrating them as God intended. Enough is enough!

I can't legitimately despise what has been carefully designed by the Creator for his creation.

Reasons why my boobs are awesome:

1. They feed my children. How cool is that!?! Insert body part and suck. Fascinating!

2. They keep other members of the house happy as well. Please don't use your imagination.

3. Boobs make me look different from men in a good way.

4. If I'm ever stranded in the ocean, they'll help me stay afloat.

5. They have all these ducts and nerves and sensors that I can't explain.

6. Unlike legs or arms or feet they morph into different shapes. How fun is it to travail through life with two little buddy water balloons!

7. I swear I can sense a change in barometric pressure from my boobs. No joke.

8. And did I mention they feed babies?

So enough bemoaning, grumbling, begrudging of our woman parts! Sure bras are the bane of my shopping existence (Victoria's Secret: WE KNOW THEY AREN'T REAL!!), but these two mounds are as female as apple pie is American. Let's enjoy the workings of every part of us.

The rant continues tomorrow on breast feeding in public...