CLEAVAGE
I’m wedged in between Elsa and Ruthie, working with them simultaneously on different Math assignments. It’s tricky but fun. All three of us are flying. Just behind us my teammate is dealing with three freshman boys who are beginning to giggle uncontrollably. She sidles up to us and whispers, “Go to the bathroom and check your pants”. I surreptitiously grab mine but they seem to be OK.
At this point Elsa says, “Oh, I’ll put on my belt”. Plumbers Crack. The next day she comes in with the same problem, but no belt. Who would have thought we would be dressing high schoolers? Just then, In comes one of the aides and announces too loudly, ” Wait till you see Becca’s top – HUGE CLEAVAGE!” It’s true. Spillover.
How are these guys and their raging hormones supposed to learn about the Constitution, Basic Algebra or anything else, with cleavage abounding at both ends?