This morning as I went about the business of starting the day I was shadowed as per usual by my extraordinarily inquisitive elder child.  Since it was still early in the day I was happily answering all questions directed my way. (This differs from in the evening when I attempt to run for the hills whenever I see her pursed lips start to form that “w” sound. ) As I was getting dressed one of the questions fired off was an inquiry about the purpose of my bra. So I told her. She looked at me and said:

“Are your boobs havin’ a problem Mom?”

Now I like to imagine that I have regained the general semblance of my pre-child body, and that what has remained permanently altered is a worthwhile trade. Yet as I looked down at the objects in question, realizing that they in no way, shape, function or form resemble anything that used to be on my body five years ago. I had to admit that yes, they just might be “havin’ a problem!”