You mean "booby trap". That's what I said "booby trap".

Normally a post called "boobs" might be about oh, say Tara Reid's nip slip. Or Britney Spears ever changing boob size. But that, my friends, was before I became host to another life form which took over my boobs for his/her own selfish purposes. I first suspected I was pregnant when my boobs started feeling sore. I had read in all those pregnancy books that, this tends to happen. Without getting into too much detail (ha ha ha, the whole post is too much detail, I know) I will tell you that when I pushed on them they felt like I had worked out my pecs too hard. And they didn't hurt at all unless I poked and prodded.

But, oh, that was last week.

Over the weekend I noticed that when I put on a t-shirt something strange was happening. The t-shirt no longer brushes my tummy. Oh no, the t-shirt now goes straight down from my boobs causing a good 1 inch gap in between the bottom of the shirt and my jeans. I feel like one of those girls in a bad hair band video. It might be OK if I could just ignore my boobs like I used to. The good 'ol days when I could just strap them in and be done with it. But they have begun to get more and more sore. It feels like Tyson punched me in the boobs. They're just two big bruises sitting on my chest. It hurts to walk. It hurts to lay on my stomach. And I'm not even prodding anymore, oh no, I learned my lesson. I have this horrid image of myself around 7 months from now with a big pregnant tummy and these out of control boobs that stick out even farther than my protruding navel and come up so high that my chin sits in my cleavage. Be afraid. Be very afraid. My boobs are no longer my own.