Melons
Melons. I’d swear my cousin went to the produce department of the grocery store and glued a couple of melons on her chest instead of having breast augmentation surgery. Even in her drugged-up pain-induced after surgery condition she whipped out her breasts for me to look at and feel. There they were—huge round melons sitting on her chest and they were hard. I hope they go better with her size 0 body once the swelling goes down a little, but I’m afraid she’s going to look like Barbie—here come my breasts for the rest of her life. I think my cousin has been obsessed with her breasts for as long as I can remember. She’s always been super thin and had a really good pair of boobs that most of us girls, especially her size A-cup sister, were jealous of. From the time she was 16 and knew what kind of power she wielded with her boobs she never missed an opportunity to whip them out in front of us. I don’t think there has ever been a time when I haven’t been to her house, or her to my house, when she hasn’t whipped out her boobs for one reason or another. This was never more prominent than last year after she had her son and for the first eight months of his life no matter who was in the room, including my grandfather, she would whip out her enormous milk-filled breasts and breast feed her son without any thought for modesty. That was the biggest I had ever seen her breasts until now, she bought D-size cups, but I think they’re bigger. She quickly lost her huge boobs once she quit breast feeding and got back down to her normal size 0 body. In fact the last time she whipped them out for me was to show me how incredibly small they had become. She was desperately upset because they were the smallest they had ever been in her life. They were smaller, but I didn’t think they looked bad, in fact they finally went with her body. But no matter how much I told her that, she declared she was going to have a boob-job. She worked tons of hours and saved up money and paid cash for a non-refundable boob-job, which she had done yesterday. And all she can say to me is “I can’t believe how much pain I’m in.” I can’t believe she volunteered for surgery and expects it to be pain free. I watched her walk around the room breasts first, and thought there goes my cousin and her $5,000 non-refundable melons, hope she got a good pair—did anyone thump them to see if they were ripe? And I wondered if they would make her happy, if not, she at least gets to go shopping for all new tops and bras to scantily cover her new melons.  posted by Matildakay at 2:48 PM