Smoke. Mirrors. Underwires.

It was a B2G2 sale. And I am more than a full cup size down. So I bought two the next band size and  cup size down, because the bras I like do not come in the new cup size in my current band size. (And I don't trust the engineering of the bras that do.) Perfecto, once I add the band extenders I bought at Hancock's after that. The other two bras are two band sizes and one cup size down. It seemed like a reasonable approximation of where I'll be in another six months.

I am hoping that when I have reached my target weight, I can resume buying nice boring full coverage bras from Wally World, without extenders. And not have to rein in the girls with industrial strength models from Lane Bryant.

I hope Beloved is not disappointed that the girls are waning. I know he is busy with important stuff for the Kingdom on his side of mortality. And he was more of a generalist than a boob man. And he's got FirstWife right there to keep him on the straight and narrow if he wanders too far down memory lane. (Or mammary lane, as the case might be.) I just don't want to hear, "You weren't kidding about the Tina Turner legs! But where did the girls go?"

Am I the only one who wonders what is going to support them when I have my resurrected body? Maybe they will become immune to gravity. Pretty sure there won't be underwires in Heaven.

In knitting news, I nearly finished the first back of the doll sweater last night. I will be working on the dining room today, with frequent breaks for knitting. I hope to make significant progress on the second back.