My youngest son, Mr. M, has been playing Little League. I took a more backseat role, letting my DH be the contact for our family and the team. As a result, I didn't get to know the other parents as well. Honestly, I had no idea which kids belonged to which family, and that was okay with me. (I think there may have been some raised eyebrows when I knitted or read magazines during the games, but whatever.)
There was an occasion for pizza to be provided for the team, so all the parents had to chip in and cover the cost. DH was working late and I was taking Mr. M to practice, so DH said I needed to give the pizza money to Mikey's mom. (not the real kid's name) Hmm. I had no idea who that was. Here is the conversation from that point.
Me: I don't know who Mikey's mom is.
DH: Oh, babe, it's easy. She's the one who has had the boob job.
ME: (mentally, jigga what?!) (eyebrows raised) Oh, really? Well, I still don't know who that is. I guess I'm not as familiar with the breast sizes of these women as you seem to be. (I was totally smiling, not mad, just amused)
DH: (getting flustered) Oh, babe, come on. She's the one who's really small, but totally top heavy. It looks fake. You know she got a boob job.
ME: (Thinking, wow, he's put some thought into this) Mmhhmm. Nope. I guess I can try to figure it out when I see them.
DH: (looks embarrassed) Oh, babe, seriously, it's so obvious.
ME:(really?) Well, maybe to you it is, but I'm not a man. I can't tell.
DH: Okay. Whatever.
Wow. I ended up not even giving her the money. DH made a big show at the next game of giving it to her so I knew who she was. Honestly, I don't think she has. She looks normal to me. Whatever. I'm not a man. I look at make-up and waist size. I don't notice boobs.