Yesterday morning, I was taking my eleven year old twins to school, sparing them a wait for the bus in fifteen below weather. The talk radio station I always listen to was on, and the topic du jour was, of course, Anna Nicole. One of the crew mentioned her big "hooters". My daughter asked me what hooters were. I sighed and answered her truthfully, "It's a bad word for women's breasts."
"Well what about that restaurant-Hooters? Does that mean breasts?"
"Yes."
"I thought it had something to do with owls?"
"No, it's all about women's breasts."
"That's disgusting."
"Yes."
So this morning, we were on our way to the Mall of America with Granny and I repeated the conversation to my mother-in-law. Annelise once again expressed her distaste for an establishment that is seemingly all about boobs. A few minutes later, Annelise reminded me that she needed to look for a bra while we were out. My mother in law asked, "What in the world do you need one of those for?"
My training bra wearing daughter responded, "For my big hooters."
