Since my wife started breast-feeding, her boobs (and some other parts of her body) have really gone south. She just finished up with our third child, and I can’t even stand to look at them outside of a bra. Her nipples are the real disappointment. They used to be so perfect! I can’t believe there was such a drastic change in what used to be perky, perfect breasts. Now they look like two deflated tubes with brown gum stuck to the end.
I think if men knew what happen to women’s bodies after childbirth, there’d be many more of us getting vasectomied. I wonder if it would be really out of line to offer her implants for her birthday? She has laughed about how droopy they are, but then she barely wears makeup, so I don’t know if she’ll be open to surgery.
—My Wife’s Boobs Went South
I still remember the first (and last) time I saw a pair of old-man balls. I was a Girl Scout, wandering through an old-people’s home with my troop, singing Christmas carols. An elderly gentleman turned a corner in front of us and began shuffling down the hall in his hospital gown. As it flapped open in the back, I and the rest of the girls from St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic school screwed up our sweet version of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” by gasping in horrified unison. There in front of our virginal little faces was his ginormous scrotal sac, dangling way down low between his withered old legs.
My point with this charming little story? People age, bodies change. Someday, if you’re lucky, you’re going to get so old that your balls will be closer to your knees than your taint. Hopefully your wife won’t try to bully you into a sac-lift.
Right now your wife’s tits, along with the rest of her, are recovering from birthing and breastfeeding three of your shared offspring. While you maybe have dark circles from lack of sleep, she pushed three humans out into the world via her vagina after nourishing them in utero for nine months. During those nine months she gained weight, couldn’t have a goddamned cocktail or a California roll, and, from what I hear, probably had to deal with hemorrhoids too. Then she watched as her magnificent orbs of lust morphed into utilitarian feeding machines. And now that she’s finally weaned the last child, her husband turns into a petulant baby.
Boy, I hope your wife never reads this letter.
Instead of offering to have some doctor cut open her breasts and shove balls of silicone inside her chest wall, surprise her with a spa day, where she can get a massage, a facial, and whatever the fuck else she—not you—wants. You can stay home with the kids and make her a nice dinner with some goddamned fucking expensive wine. Then, yes, you go get that vasectomy.
One of the most important things a person can do in a relationship is learn when to keep their mouth shut. Her tits may no longer look like they did when she was 20, but they work and she’s healthy. They may bounce back, they might not. But they’re part of her now, and unless she brings up surgery, I suggest you zip it. And grow up, while you’re at it.
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