"No Mummy. We've already watched three episodes. You're done," says Rissa.
I look over to David forlornly.
He shrugs. "The kid has spoken. It's bedtime for Bonzo."
I throw myself across their laps, wailing in dissatisfaction. They are unmoved. As I am lying across their laps, I look down at my chest. My breasts have caved in.
"What the?!?" I struggle up and look down again, poking at my chest. The girls are up where they belong.
I lie back down sideways across Rissa, my gaze now chestward. Dents. My breasts have DENTS!!! The padded t-shirt bra cups are DENTED!!
"What are you doing?" Rissa asks.
"My boobs have dents," I say, poking at them. I move back to sitting. "See this? No dents!" I lie across Rissa once more. poke, poke... "Now? DENTS!!!"
My spouse and child do their best not to laugh, but are unsuccessful.
"Not funny, guys! NOT FUNNY. This means that I have floppy breasts. FLOPPY BREASTS!!!" No longer wailing because they won't let me watch another Mindy Project, I am now wailing in narcissism.
"It's okay Mummy," says Rissa patting my arm. "No one will know."
"I... I will know!! And your father, because he sleeps with me when I am naked. "My breasts are DEFLATING!!!"
"They are not deflating," says David. "They are..."
"Don't you dare say aging!"
"Into what exactly?"
"...soft pillowy... butterflies?"
"Okay, I can get on board with that."