Robot Boobies

So we’re on vacation and yesterday I was getting dressed in front of my daughter. No biggie. But based on what happened, I’m guessing she doesn’t see me naked very often. I blame it on my walk-in closet at home. No wonder my husband complains that I got the bigger closet. Anyway, I take off my shirt and notice her staring at my boobs with the most confused look.

“Breasts,” I say to her. My one word explanation doesn’t placate her curiosity, though. She continues to stare at me quizzically and after a few more moments, she finally says something.

“Buttons,” she exclaims.

I desperately try not to burst out in Beavis and Butthead laughter. “Nipples,” I explain.

“No,” she replies, “Buttons!” Unfortunately, I immediately remember that this is the same thing she said when she saw the robots at the Science Explorium. Great, I’ve got robot boobies. I guess I should just be thankful she didn’t try to push “my buttons.”

Oh jeez, maybe I’m not getting dressed in front of her often enough. Am I turning the female body into something strange and taboo? Flash forward to a rebellious Zoey fifteen years from now. A lesbian (Not there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, I often fantasize that a sweet little lipstick lesbian will take her to prom rather than a sex-crazed high school boy.) Her sexual preference is not what concerns me. But I do wonder what’s going to happen when that sweet little lipstick lesbian takes off her shirt and Zoey reaches out to “beep beep” her nipples? Tune in Tokyo.

So to make her more comfortable with the female body, I decide to go topless for the rest of the trip. I hope this doesn’t make my mother-in-law too uncomfortable. I know my husband will be okay with it.

Just kidding. But seriously, I think I’ll be removing the door from my closet when we get home, or in the least I’ll be getting dressed in the bedroom from now on.

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