The Future (May Be) Plastics

I am so distraught. Women all over town are having 'a little work done' in all kinds of places, rendering the playing field completely unlevel for the rest of us. I realize that I, too, can buy what I want if I really, really want it, but my kids are going to need braces and higher education, which means that I'm just going to have to go with what I've got.

Suck a duck.

True confessions: I've always been disappointed in my - um - chestular area. While Kak may wax on about her Chest 'o Plenty, I have the opposite situation.

For me, the glass - cup - is half-empty :(

Not that this is anything new for me, but if you've nursed three babies, then you know what I'm talkin' about. Not only is there now less than there was before, but they seem so sad these days. I think they, like me, miss their vibrant youth and ability to stretch towards the sun like sunflowers (er, daffodils).

So about once a month (coincidence?), I hit the internet, Google local plastic surgeons, click on 'before' and 'after' pics, and weep into my wine glass.

I am SUCH a 'before', it's not even funny.

Those pics talk to me, saying, "Look, Tara - this is the life you were born to live! Full, perky tits with adequate, quarter-sized nipples! You deserve them! You do, you do! Say goodbye to those bras you've had since fifth grade and come - come to the light!"

And no, I haven't REALLY had my bras since fifth grade; I'm exaggerating, obviously.

Make that fourth grade.

Like I said, my desire for a yummy-looking chest is nothing new. I distinctly remember being at the beach with my grandparents when I was around twelve, watching our rented beach house's MTV.

The "China Girl" video - not so impressive. But right there in "Oh, Sherrie" were some of the most glorious tits I have ever seen. Seriously.

Steve Perry is singing to 'Sherrie' (I presume), and those giant braless nipples are singin' right back.

"Yes!" I thought, "I want THOSE! I can't wait. They're AWESOME!!!"

But alas, my adolescent dream never came true...

I do have a little something; B's to be exact. And I might be okay with them if I also had nice legs, my other albatross of a physical feature. But my best feature has always been my stomach.
My stomach!!!

I don't have to tell you what that's like now. So I feel like I have nothing left, except for maybe smooth elbows. In the summer.

I know, I know - this is all very, very self-centered. As Jim loves to say, "Why the hell do you care how you look naked?"

That, I don't know. But I do care!!!! I swear, I do.

And apparently I'm not the only one; suddenly, brand-new 'Sherries' are all over town, ripping their t-shirts off at the Y, swim practice, the playground, Chick-fil-A -... I swear I've seen more forty-year-old tit this year than a mammogram tech.

So, what do I do?

Jim also loves to tell me, "Either buy some or be at peace with what you've got."
To which I reply, "Can't I just rub an Italian statue and see if a miracle happens?"

You may think this is just not that big of a deal, which tells me that you have nice tits.

Good for you!

But for me, all I can do is quote Langston Hughes:

"What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up - like a raisin in the sun?"

Apparently so. Oh, Sherrie!!!!!