Farewell to my cleavage 

  
This week I have been surrounded by boobs, tits and cleavage.

From talk of an ex colleague shaking her ample assets as a burlesque dancer, Belinda’s plunging pair, gagging to escape, in “My Dad Wrote a Porno”, (that many people keep mentioning it, I thought I’d give it a go,) to the incredible beach balls that I seemed to be faced with every time I pop to the office loo courtesy of a girl in the office next to us. When I’m washing my hands and she’s in there I simply don’t know where to look. She must pump them up several times a day, they are immense.

Maybe I have noticed these things because it’s envy, because like free time, lie ins, and personal space, my cleavage is another thing on the list that has been theived by my children. So in remembrance, farewell, auf wiedersehen and adieu.

Farewell to my cleavage, farewell to my tits,

I’m really going to miss you, you were one of my favourite bits.

You didn’t have a long shelf life, not arriving till my late teens,

Apparently a satisfying handful, not big enough to feature in magazines.

A prominent focal point, of any new first date,

My first boyfriend once remarked, he was gutted they’d pitched up late.

My friends they took the mick, of my Triumph boulder holder

Embarrassed at the time, now I wish I’d been much bolder.

At school there were challenges of pertness, who’s were the best?

Now never mind the pencil, I wouldn’t pass the pencil case test.

Oh for those Uni days, when people talked to my chest,

If only I still had a cleavage, to flaunt in a low cut vest.

Now it’s only a bacon bap, that commands the same male attention,

Maybe it’s time to consider, some uplifting medical intervention.

So after my first child, two sizes slipped and I was full of woe,

My husband didn’t get the fuss, how would he feel if an inch of his privates was to go.

I remember talk of empty pillows, and the horror of spaniels ears.

This is now becoming, a very realistic, imminent fear.

Running didn’t help the cause, despite a proper supportive running bra,

It seems training for a marathon, pushed their limited elasticity too far.

So now that the thought of any more children, has been firmly put to bed,

I’m looking at myself to see, what’s left of my favourite part instead.

The damage has been done, the effects of two children far too clear,

I’m regularly having nightmares, about that poor old spaniel’s ear.

And when I finally pluck up the courage to get measured, and hear the nitty gritty,

The lady pops her tape measure in her pocket, and looks at me with pity.

So farewell to my cleavage, farewell to my rack,

Without some serious financial backing, they are never coming back.

So before you have kids get them out, flaunt them for everyone to see,

Because it’s depressing when your former E cup, settles as a B.
 
For the record the pictured cleavage is not mine and never was. They are the ample assets of the above mentioned Brazen Bijoux, @Brazen_Bijoux A girl who is successfully making the most of hers.

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5 Comments Add yours

  1. I really enjoyed reading this you brightened up quite a dull morning at work. I was drawn to your post as sadly mine have disappeared too!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Mama says:

    Aw, sympathies from a fellow owner of spaniel ears. I’m happy for a downgrade but with it hadn’t come with a new, additional low slung feature 😞
    #fartglitter

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Yep I’ve been left with a couple of empty pitta breads too. This made me laugh! #fartglitter

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Mouse, Moo and Me Too says:

    Haha! Brilliant. One of my best friends warned me that the era of parenthood means you’ll never get your vixen tits back. Mine were more urban bin-dweller fox than vixen tits but I still miss those pups.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. moderatemum says:

    It’s taken me two years to get here but I love my little milk shrivelled tatas. I’m rocking little tees and dresses with no bra on and buying non underwired bras!!! #FartGlitter

    Liked by 1 person

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