Yesterday, my son asked me what my breasts were.
That was a first for me. I don't think my daughter has ever asked that question.
I should have been expecting it, but for some reason, I was still a little tongue-tied,
Or maybe it was just the way he asked that set me back a bit.
"Mommy?" he asked, looking at my chest. "What are those big things?" He lifted his own shirt and patted his chest to illustrate. 'Right here?"
Big things? Big things!
Why do I see a subscription to Jugs and a therapist bill in his future?