I was just about to jump in the shower, when I realized that I actually had time to write a quick post, uninterrupted.
As I was standing naked in front of the computer, (shut up, you do it too, you’re just too scared to admit it,) trying to think of something profound or witty to type, I noticed that my right booby was just a little bit softer and droopier than on a normal day. I checked the left booby to see if mayhap there was just a little bit stronger pull of soggy gravity on my right side, and realized that Lefty too was just a bit less spectacular than normal. I became just slightly distraught.
I cupped the girls (which are quite a bit more than a handful for my child-sized hands) and squished them up, reminiscing of the days when they were perkier and younger. Then I shook them a little bit, just to make sure they were still bouncy. Reassured, I gave them a good talking to and let them know that being lazy and saggy was not an option, and that they had until the morning to get back to their normal, awe-inspiring selves.
Yes, I occasionally talk to my boobies, because, well, I can.