Yesterday we talked about prolasped uteruses. (Is the plural of uterus uteri?) It got to me to thinking (once again the strangest things get me to thinking) about prolasped breasts. My breasts prolasped sometime around 29 years ago when I was nursing our fourth child, Hyrum.
Hyrum was a world-class nurser. (Sort of like some cats are world class mousers.) Anyway, Hyrum sucked the girls until they resembled nothing so much as deflated balloons. Prolasped, indeed. They had lasped, prolasped, and exlasped
Gem for the day: if your breasts are prolasped, don't get a boob job. They're expensive and you may need the money for a facelift. Stick a pair of gym socks in your bra and call it good.
Yep, blame it all on Hyrum. I'm sure I left your girls hanging high and in their proper place.
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