Too Tight

The last night at Camp, I tried to sleep, but I couldn't ignore my mother's sighing and heavy breathing from the next bed over. I would have never noticed the noise if Irina hasn't make such a fuss about it the night before.

I tossed and turned for a while, counted sheep, and even tried to put a pillow over my head. Nothing worked.

"Anyu, are you okay? Why are you breathing and sighing so deeply?"

"Ehhh...my bra...it's too tight."

"What size are you?"

"36C."

"No way, mom, you're bigger than that. Even I'm a 38B."

"No vay you're a 38! You haf no boobs!"

"Gee, thanks. And '38' has nothing to do with boob-size. It's the circumference of my rib cage."

"Oh....really? Den vhat are dah letters for?"

"That's the cup size. For your boobs."

"Oooooh. Nobody ever told me dat. I just picked von up vhen I was 18 and I've been getting dah same size ever since."

"Didn't Nagymama ever teach you about that stuff?"

"You didn't talk about tings like dis vhen I vas young, Stephie. You veren't supposed to."

"Says who?"

"I dunno. You just veren't supposed to talk about anyting."

My mother eventually  "unbuckled" herself, her heavy breathing hastened, and I...
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