Introducing TMI Tuesdays. Inspired by Mjenks ~ This One's For You Oh Mighty Crown of Thistles.
One thing that I have no problem admitting is that I've had a little after-market work done. I don't mind admitting it, trust me people know and it's not like I'm trying to pass anything off as home grown or original ownership. Plus, I just don't give a crap if anyone knows ~ I'm not showing them off or letting people get a free feel of them, but I don't care if they know.
In fact the year that the twins first arrived, I was in a master's program. The twins were "delivered" over Christmas break ~ Merry Christmas to me. The kicker was that I would have
to tell my instructors that I had "had a little work done" and would not be fully recouperated until at least two weeks into the new school year. Nothing like telling a couple of pudgy, not-gettin-any collage professors that you just got a new pair of turbo twins to cause a few "awkward" moments. In theory, the professors can't touch them, look at them, or even think about them because they are professors and aren't supposed look at student's chest. In reality, it causes more than a few sneaky glances south of the collar bone and some really interesting faculty meetings.
At first I wasn't going to tell anyone at all. Then I found out the recovery would take a whileand I was going to need help with things, not to mention still be on-boarding the
nice little muscle relaxers that come with the new equipment. It wasn't like I was going to back to school and someone would look at me and say "Oh, did you get your hair cut? You look different." No sh*t Sherlock, I now have knockers where once the cupboard was bare. Cause guys may not notice a new hair cut for weeks, but bring in the boobs and they spot them right away every time. So being up front about it cut down on the amount of class gossip and whispered questions.
Well, I was not about to have the twins delivered by just any man. So I asked around for some referrals. I got a few names and a few invites by girls to "feel" their work. Yeah, it gets a little creepy when women you barely know start flashing you their tatas and invite you
to grope on them like a freshman in high school. Maybe not for you guys, but for me ~ yeah, creepy. However one name kept cropping up: Dr. M.
Now before their was Dr. McDreamy, there was Dr. M ~ the original McDreamy. Not only was he highly recommended for his surgical skills, he was recommended for is, ahhhhhh, ahhhhhh, scenic offices. Yeah, that's the ticket.
A few consultations later and wham! I'm in post-op. Where I was begrudgingly dragging my drug induced comatose ass back into reality. Dr. M walks in to check on me and give me the post surgical update. After a few minutes of his cajoling me to wake up and talk to him, I finally mustered the strength to lift my head and look at my chest. OH-SWEET-MARY-MOTHER-OF-GAWD!! look at these babies!! They are HUGE!
They were especially large from the angle I was looking down at them. They were BIG. Mount Everest Huge. If I could have lifted my hands, I would have felt myself up right then and there. Instead I put my head down, look Dr. M straight in the eyes, and with a smirk whispered "sweet!" Then passed out.
P.s. Blogger has crappy formatting!!