Today's list of things to do included laundry, taking N to football practice and oh, yes, that occasional boob-squashing event we call a mammogram.
I'm not really that old. Twenty-nine for the 2nd time? Third? (Thinking in head)... Well let's just say I'm not that old. But we have a family history, so every now and then the duty must be done.
In the doctor's office, I hop up to what we'll refer to as the smasher. A very sweet technician proceeds to apologize in advance for any pain I have to endure, and I refrain from any "but you haven't even taken me to dinner yet!" jokes even though clearly, she has hit first base.
Boob squashed? Check! But oh no, not so fast. She just keeps on clicking that dial, lowering the
I'm not really that old. Twenty-nine for the 2nd time? Third? (Thinking in head)... Well let's just say I'm not that old. But we have a family history, so every now and then the duty must be done.
In the doctor's office, I hop up to what we'll refer to as the smasher. A very sweet technician proceeds to apologize in advance for any pain I have to endure, and I refrain from any "but you haven't even taken me to dinner yet!" jokes even though clearly, she has hit first base.
Boob squashed? Check! But oh no, not so fast. She just keeps on clicking that dial, lowering the
