Who Needs a Tape Measure when You Have Boobs

Who needs a tape measure, when you have boobs? Yes, boobs. Whether they are big, small, perky, drooping or anywhere in between, they are yours and at times, on loan, to others. I have wondered for some time, why the obsession with a woman's breasts? Particularly, breasts or boobs being of such interest to the male population both young and old. I personally, do not give mine a great deal of thought, with the exception of my monthly check for changes. The obsession with breasts begins when our children are infants. They rest their tiny little hands, while enjoying a meal or being soothed to sleep. The fascination grows, as they do, with poking and squishing and plenty of giggles. I have come to the conclusion, some males never outgrow their fascination or obsession, such as the 48 year old man I am married to.

We, as parents, measure our children's height. Some parents make marks on door frames or walls or document the increase in baby or scrap books. Height is recorded in our children's health records, by their physician, and predictions are made in comparison to family history. Our family, in this case, has done all of the above. I have decided that my boobs are useful and not just to be admired by the opposite sex. This revelation came the other day when my boobs were transformed into a useful household tool. A tool that I can take wherever I go. My boobs are the official measuring tool for height by my five year old son.

As a vertically challenged Mom of 5'0", all my kids were eager to be taller than "Mom." My husband, on the other hand, stands 6'2" which was a much more daunting a task for our kids to meet. So, it's me and my boobs. As my five year old son stood in front of me, carefully stretching to full height, he declared, in his proudest shout, "I made it! I am up to your boobies, Mommy!" What a milestone for my youngest son. For so long, he was below the boobies, longing, even dreaming of some day, stretching his neck to reach the ever popular target. The news continued to travel, via the five year old voice, to everyone we encountered. Friends, neighbors, family and strangers were made aware of his accomplishment. My boobs were there again, as proof of his accomplishment. "See? I am this tall!" he would say.

On the other hand, my oldest son, at 14 years old, having surpassed his booby goal many years ago, carefully avoids mom's boobs. As a teenage boy in full puberty-mode, he's content with resting his elbows on mom's shoulders and chin on top of my head. Besides, mom boobs, are totally gross. This boy is on to perkier, much younger boobies as he nonchalantly sneaks glances from under shy eyelashes. Still not ready to admit his fascination, certainly not to his mom, he scans the horizon at beeches and malls. On occasion, he has cranked his head completely around like an owl, all the while, denying he is looking at anything in particular but his blushing cheeks tell a different story.

A truly amazing body part we, women, are given that come in all sorts of sizes. Breasts are beautiful and useful tools. I highly recommend taking a good look at your own or perhaps your partner's, embrace them, love them, appreciate them and above all else, take care of them. Schedule your mammogram and give them a thorough self exam on a monthly basis. It could save your life. Love and respect your boobies so others can too.