Doodled All Over That Shiz

My Doodle Bra finally arrived at the office today after weeks of waiting. Weeks during which I could scarcely think of anything else, so absorbed was I in intricate fantasies about all the ways my life would improve when the color and wash bra arrived and we became inseparable.

For example, I'd be wearing the thing in a rain storm on the way home from work on my bike and my white shirt would be soaked all the way through, Doodle Marker colors seeping into the fabric. Then, as I'm arduously pedaling through the gale-force winds, tired but not beaten, a lovely fellow in an Aston Martin will pull up next to me at a stop light. Looking over, he'll be sure that my chesticles are emitting all the colors of the rainbow. "Gee, I've never seen a girl like that before!" he'll think. "Maybe there is such a thing as love, maybe there are magical boobs, maybe that wet but still lovely girl and her adorable retro-looking bike should spend the rest of their lives with me..."

All of this happens, of course, in the course of two seconds, after which he rescues me from the rain in a way that totally wouldn't freak me out. We'd then live happily ever after and he'd be cool with the fact that I don't want kids or puppies and I'm not always that nice.
Anyway, I digress. The points is this: the Doodle Bra came, Lucie and I doodled on it, and it is a fabulous mess of the best possible variety. Things started off well when I realized that the 34D is more the size of a training bra than a grown up lady one. From there though, it was all uphill, a true example of wholesome, boob-related fun for the whole family.
Now, emblazoned with hearts, rainbows and all sorts of other really gay things, my Doodle Bra is ready and waiting for the day I have a mistake of a daughter and am feeling maternal.(My face is doing that because the Doodle Bra is cutting off all circulation to my chest and also I'm quirky. Cute, right?)