A very close friend of the family wished to fairwell The Kid by giving us a barbeque lunch before he departed the airport for a place distance to begin his college education. Our friend lives with two other gentleman, all of somewhat curious personality. All three are best described as eccentrics. They are all older than 65 years of age.
Upon arrival, one of the men, we shall call him E, was busy with the bbq. The first thing I noticed about E was how much I liked his new haircut, a bob. The second thing I noticed about E was that he was wearing a pair of dangling earrings. The third thing I noticed about E was that he had breasts.
So, I racked my brain (no pun intended). Did E have breasts the last time I saw him? Some men have naturally larger breasts. I couldn't remember. Had my friend mentioned that E had some sort of hormonal imbalance or illness? No. E was wearing a non form fitting t-shirt in a dark color, but I did ascertain a distinctly female curve to the breasts.
E either was in the process or had finished sex change surgery.
Ok, so onward and forward. Not so easy, because DH brought the subject up in the basement away from E who was outside manning the bbq. Yes, our friend informed us E is now a she. The Kid knew before as he had been over to visit a couple weeks before. By the end of the bbq we were all calling E by her new female name.
We all had a very good time. DH however reports feeling shocked and wishing someone had let him know before hand. I, on the other hand, feel just a little bit jealous. E is a seventy year old with perfect, beautiful breasts. I don't have perfect, beautiful breasts after five decades on the planet and four breastfed babies. The least they could have done was to give E an age appropriate droop and sag.
The prodigal blogger
2 years ago