Some of you may have read a previous blog post I'd written about Karl showering with me when he was two years old. If you haven't read it or need a refresher, check it out here Just a Friendly Reminder From Your Brutally Honest 2 Year Old.
Well, now Karl is no longer two years old, but his little sister, Hana, is. Wouldn't you know it, she's just as honest with her astute observations as her older brother. Tonight, as I was changing out of my day time clothes and into my pajamas, Hanalei walked into my room and watched me slip off my bra. I had that heavenly euphoric feeling of finally releasing the tension from around my rib cage after having worn the thing non-stop for twelve hours. You know the feeling, ladies- the rush of relief that gives you full body goosebumps and tingles up your neck. Peeling the bra off and letting your ladies fall free from confinement.
Hana witnessed the look of bliss on my face and subsequently, my bare chest on full display. Her little voice, which sounds like Minnie Mouse sucked down a helium balloon, peeped up and asked "Oh, mommy? What are 'dose?" I didn't know what " 'dose" she was referring to so I asked her "What baby? What are what?" She walked up to me and poked me in my right nipple with her tiny index finger. " 'Dose, mommy. What are 'deese right here?" She'd never asked me about my chest before but she has most certainly begun to notice that she is different from her daddy and her brother.
Still bare chested, I knelt down to her and said "These are mommy's boobies. Girls have boobies. You will have them, too, one day." She heard me and her beautiful little cherubic face, with rose colored soft cheeks twisted up a little. She was processing the thought. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit and the wisps of her strawberry blonde hair that had wiggled free from her pony tail glinted in my bedroom light. She looked at me again, so innocently, so matter-of-fact, and she delivered a perfectly wrapped box-o-honesty. She asked "Oh, mommy? You got the small boobies?"
I blinked fast a few times. I tried desperately to keep myself from breaking into a fit of laughter. Her response was innocent. She wasn't being rude. She doesn't know how to yet. She is so very curious by nature and I know that her second question was based on her keen observation of my chest and the treasure trove of memories she could find of the size of other women she's seen. She really and truly was only making an honest observation- a brutally honest observation.
Her assumption, that "mommy's got the small boobies" was entirely correct. She'd seen mommy's boobies now, and compared to what she knows is "big" (not that she's seen anyone else's bare chest, just that she understands the opposites big and small) she knew that my boobies are indeed not big, but rather, pitifully small. Yes folks, my two year properly assessed my size A cup "mosquito bites."
I'm not upset. I know I'm flat chested. That's okay with me. It is just so amusing to me to know that at the tender age of two and a half, kids are absorbing the world and people around them with an unbiased lens. They don't know how to be rude or polite about things like stretch marks, the size of one's nose, or if something smells like a big giant fart or not. They don't know not to announce to the bathroom full of other women, when you're crammed in the pocket sized toilet stall trying to do your business in as much (which is very little) privacy as possible that "Oh, mommy! You going poop! You're a big girl!!!" (Not that I've lived that scenario at all...) They don't know not to tell you straight to your face that your boobs are way smaller than 99% of the rest of the female population's boobs.
I did answer my sweet girl. "Yes, baby. Mommy has small boobies. That's okay. Some boobies are big and some boobies are small. They are all normal." She shook her head and that was that on the subject in her book. I put my baggy T-Shirt on, scooped her up and kissed her. She hugged me and loved me, flat chested and all.