Boob Stories

[Interjection: We lived in San Diego, CA at this time--nothing to do with the stories, but a point of reference/ time in case anyone is interested.]

When I was in 5th grade, I was (as I should have been) very flat-chested. I longed--like you wouldn't believe--to wear a bra like a couple of the girls in my class (yes, it's true). One girl in particular, Bridget, was "built" and the boys really liked her (her personality, however, left A LOT to be desired! I really, really disliked her). Thinking it would be impressive for others to see that I wore a bra (and therefore deduct that I had boobs), I stole an orange silky bra from my mother's drawer, and wore it to school...under an extremely light, blue-colored blouse. Yeah. I'm pretty sure it got noticed, but it probably wasn't so impressive.

One evening, when I was in 6th grade, my mother asked me to come closer and stand in front of her. She looked at me quietly for a second or two and then loudly hollered, "Doug! Doug come in here!" When my father came into the room, she exclaimed, "Look, we need to buy Laurie a bra! She's getting boobies!" Gah. Mortification!!

Oh boy!
~Mama