Boobies are like jello

As I'm hanging up Cheese's laundry I'm filtering through and separating her pjs and spankies. I stumble across her 'braaaaawl' also known as her bra. It's a little training sports bra that she threw a fit to have on our last trip to Justice.

I casually toss it to her and tell her to put it in her pajamas. I also inform her that she should be wearing it since she asked for it. 

'Well you see, it's not very comfortable. The bottom stripe is kind of tight.' 

'Cheese, that never changes, for the purpose of your braaaaawl is to support your boobies. And you're built just like your momma so chances are you're gonna have big boobies, so you should get used to it.' 

'Why do some women have boobies that go to their belly buttons?'

*insert incredibly serious look here*

'Because they didn't wear a braaaaawl, Cheese.' 

'Well you wear one so why are your boobies so squishy? Are they made of jello?' 

'No sweet Cheesus, boobies are not made of jello.'

'Can you buy some the next time you go to the store? It's so good.'

What can I say? There's always room for jello...even when your attention span is that of a flea. 

Babies and Floppy Boobs

A few nights ago Cheese stated that she didn't know if she ever wanted kids but she should know by the time she is a teenager and she would just have one then. After much argument from her father and I about how having babies when you are a teenager is NOT a good idea (much to her dismay) she finally settled on she would have a baby after college. Good choice for Cheese. *applauds Cheese*

I thought the discussion of babies was over but apparently not.

Early yesterday morning, around 6:15 or so I woke Brianna up and told her it was time for school. Funny thing, I woke her up in MY bed...some bad dream, blah blah blah, my tummy hurts, my head hurts, there's a monster, etc. landed sweet Cheese in my bed around one in the morning. I wake her up and head her up to her room to get dressed. I bring my clothes along too because I am needed to get dressed to take them to school.

I turn my back to her to put on my bra. I hurry as many questions are flying like "why is your bra pink...that makes it sexy. Why are you wearing a sexy bra to school?"  I turn back toward the bed where my shirt was laying and before I could get it pulled over my head I feel a small hand smack my chest. I kindly tell the Cheese that smacking my chest is not appropriate. Shirt is on, THANK GOD. Then as I am trying to get Cheese dressed she pokes me and says "boobies". Trying to ignore it so that it will go away is not working at this moment.

Finally I tell her to stop, she is dressed and needs to get her shoes and head to the kitchen. She looks at me so sweet and innocent like. I should always know better when I see that little half smile and the angelic Lady Gaga eyes because that usually means I am about to hear something that is going to probably hurt my feelings.

"Mommy...you have floppy boobs. Why are your boobs floppy? I don't have floppy boobs."

"It is what happens when you have kids and you are too small to have floppy boobs, get your shoes and get in the kitchen now."

"Well I'm never having kids then because I don't want to be a fat momma with floppy boobs."

*kicks her in the ass*

"Get in the kitchen now."

Exit stage right Floppy Boobs and all.