Day 5: Second Base

My son likes to cop a feel. As in the kid digs boobies. As in, you may be holding him thinking, "Aaaaaw. What a sweet boy," when all of the sudden, "Aaaah! Wha! Hey!" as you get first-hand how a toddler can take the term "fun bags" to new heights.

Groped the babysitter. Fondled his aunt. Tickled Grandma. You name it, he's felt it.

I guess the whole fascination with breastesses starts at birth?

At any rate, for a mommy who has no boobies (or very small ones if you're being kind and, please, be kind), this poses some real frustration for said toddler.

The other day, we were in the kitchen. I was making his PBJ sandwich before an excursion outside when...I felt it. Those little, boob-crazy hands. But, not on my boobs (because as I mentioned before, it's hard to locate them these days), but on the part of my body that feels most like boobs -- my midsection.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my mammary-obsessed toddler felt up my spare tire. Giggling away. As if the whole squeezing of the excess skin in that area wasn't humiliating enough, I had to have him laughing in my face.

Going to do some sit-ups now. That is all.