a farewell to...yeah, them.

dear boobs,
we need to talk.  this just isn't working out.  why?  well, it's not been ideal from the very beginning.  remember high school?  no, of course you don't.  that's because YOU WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND!  even after i begged and pleaded for you to please just hurry and show up!  that's just not right, you know.  you had four years.  four years!  high school is hard enough and you just made it that much worse.

and then there's my twenties when you just kind of put in a half effort.  yeah, i know you were there when i was pregnant.  at age 27!  but even then you were sore and painful and generally awful to deal with.  and then, after Little Dude was born, you let me down again!  you have one *real* job and you couldn't even do it right!  ugh.  it was very disappointing to be sure.

since i've turned thirty, you've been okay.  *finally* decided to show up and stay.  lookin' good, having fun, and doing what we do.  but this?  when you try to KILL ME?  that's where i draw the line!  this just the last straw and i'm going to take action.  so, we're breaking up.  no no, i won't hear your arguments.  yes, BOTH of you must go!  i'm getting another set who will be nice.  and stay where they're supposed to be.  and oh yeah, not try to kill me!  i just think they'll work out much better for me in the long run, you know?

no hard feelings.  okay, a *few* hard feelings but that's to be expected under these circumstances.  let's not draw this out or make things worse.  we'll just say goodbye and leave it at that.  and so i say, goodbye boobs.  good bye.

-me