When I was six months pregnant, my husband, brother and sister-in-law decided to go the country for a lake adventure. While eating lunch on one of those old wooden splinter in your ass picnic tables, my husband and my brother stopped talking and just stared at each other. I knew this look. It’s the “don’t tell Joey a spider just crawled into her bathing suit top look.”
So I did what any pregnant women would have done. I ripped off my top and shuck my boobs to the the left and right. (If we were in California, it probably would have registered a 4 on the Richter scale.) Once the bouncing of my pregnant giant boobs settled down while my brother, husband and sister-in-law’s eyes pooped out of their head, we heard a thump . . . needless to say, the spider did not survive.
I look at the bright side . . . 26 years later and I can still kill a spider with my ta-tas. . .the difference is, I don’t have to bend down to do it! OK, anyone who knows me, knows that isn’t true since I had a breast reduction; but it seemed like a funnier ending.