Boobs

My magnificent mammaries are proof positive that God answers prayer.

Be advised, however, that there is apparently a 5 year backlog.

So, once you put in that prayer order, have faith and wait.

Don't keep praying.

When I was 11 and 12, oh, how I wanted to be a womanly woman (yeah, I know, 12- way to be in a rush). Boys tormented me by calling me a carpenter's dream (flat as a board) or a pirates treasure (a sunken chest).

ARRGHH.

When I was 13 and 14 (still praying) for a time I was persuaded to take up mowing the lawn with our push mower because, my dad said, pushing a mower was excellent for developing the bust.

This didn't last too long, actually, as I eventually realized that my *dad* didn't really have much of a bust.

(Sneaky, Dad, sneaky.)

Still praying.

By the time I was 16 or 17, I was starting to get a bit of a shape.

By the time I was 20, I pretty much had a rack.

By the time I was 25 and breast-feeding, I was buxom, no denying it.

VoLUMPtous.

So, have a care what you pray for.

And remember, there's a five year backlog.