Beaches, Bellies and Boobs

I had a lot of time to watch people while I was in Mexico. By Tuesday I had successfully done nothing for two days. I mean, I did read a book a day, but I think this may have been the longest I have ever gone without rushing somewhere.

So, I sat by the pool and smiled while I watched my kids play. It was good, and it left me crazy. I started tpo look around the place more thoughtfully and then it hit me. I was not struck by the beauty of the place or the friendliness of its people. What hit me first was that there were bellies everywhere. I mean, the place was full of Americans and Canadians and boy they were certainly very heavy. North Americans are truly getting fatter.

The next thing that stuck out were the boobs. People were at either very fat, or they had a great set of boobs.

Let's get something straight right away. I certainly like men. But it's a well-known fact that women dress for other women, not men. So I laid around the pool like everybody else and checked out everyone else's swimsuit, noticing who had what lump or unsightly bulge and who didn’t, or which women changed their belly ring to match their swimsuits. But, it finally hit me why the idea of having a doctor put your boobs where you want them to be makes sense. Especially if you like to spend a lot of time in a bathing suit.

I believe in being the master of one to one state, even if it means not letting something as certain as gravity dictate where your body parts are. This resort was awash with perfect looking double D. Cups. Before this, I was not a fan of breast surgery. but even my friend, whose family traveled with ours had the most perfect cleavage I have ever seen. I mean, I'd never noticed it before we left home. We always looked at each other with clothes on. But in a bathing suit it made sense. It was suddenly all clear to me why these women had done it.

I am no slouch myself, still au naturel, but I realize there are is a law somewhere that says even B cups are just not made to stand up by themselves without help. I mean, they just can't. For the first time, I kind of liked the look. Um, excuse me, What was your doctor’s name again?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Daddy's Lessons/Call for Submissions- Creative Non-Fiction

Who is the Preacher-Man? Behind the Scenes on Closer to Crazy

A Little Child Shall Lead Them