My Daughter Likes My Rack

It’s official: I have the best boobies in the house.

While drying Miss3 tonight I had the pleasure – the joy! – of listening to a conversation between Tracey and Miss5.

“They’re so big,” Miss5 told my wife tonight.

“What?”

“Your boobs.”

Our second youngest daughter had just jumped out the bath and Tracey was vigorously drying her. Clearly her Mother’s glad bags had caught her eye.

“Thank you,” said Tracey.

Although to Miss5 that seemed an odd thing to say. “What?”

“Thank you,” my wife repeated.

“Why?”

As there was frowning at this point, Tracey felt the conversation was slipping away from her.

“For saying I have nice boobs.”

“I didn’t,” said Miss5. “I said you have big boobs. But they go wiggle woggle wiggle woggle wiggle woggle all the time.” She didn’t say it like wiggle woggling was a good thing. In fact, her hands became very animated at this point as she repeatedly flung them over her shoulders then down to her navel and then under her arms. And then the final insult. “Not like Daddies,” and suddenly her hands were firmly cupped in front of her chest in a respectable C-cup range.

I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.

“You realize that isn’t a compliment for you, right?” Tracey asked me from under one raised eyebrow.

Nope.

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 ~ raising a family on little more than laughs ~