My Rack Brings All the Waffles to the Yard

There are a few things that make me an angry woman. One is my ginormous boobs. It’s not a few… it’s one. Because of my knockers, I don’t have one clean shirt. Not one. I just bought two new shirts and they are already stained. Mostly because when I shovel food in my giant, pie hole, it misses my mouth and catches on my boobs. It doesn’t matter how fast I pick up that piece of food, it magically stains my clothes with no chance of getting out the stain. So the next time you see me, just ignore the organic shaped stain. Just know that I am well fed.

Along with the food thing, food drops into my cleavage at the worst moments. Like when I am at a restaurant or teaching a class. Nothing is more awkward then excusing yourself to find half of your meal down your gapping hole. Seriously, my cleavage is like a bottomless pit. The other day I shook them too hard and one of my kids fell out…

And then today, my daughter had two waffles that she was in the middle of eating and she decided to put them aside until she was ready. She put the waffles on my rack. Do I look like I grew these giant melons for the sole purpose of you resting food on there? Would you like a glass of juice with that? My boobs are not a shelf. They are not for food or for books… they are not a piece of furniture… although they are big enough to be used as a book shelf, a few pillows or a giant bed.

So the next time you see me, just understand that every shirt is stained- no I don’t want to get more shirts because I am not wasting money on more shirts that are doomed for a stained life. Know that no matter how much shirt I have on, I will always have a gapping cleavage… even if I wear a turtle neck. The next time you see me, I might be pulling out leftovers- at least my kids are fed. And if you see me with less than three children, feel free to shake me so we can locate my other child…

Until next time,

Big melons may be nice to look at but they are really a beautiful curse



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I am a mother of three small children with a wonderful husband. Having children is not as simple as black and white. Having kids is black, white and crazy. I hope you enjoy my blog of my crazy escapades.

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