I won't argue with science.
Unless the breasts in question belong to my tweenage daughter.
Just the other day there she was: this sweet little thing in a princess gown, buckled snugly at 5-points in her car seat, singing about the yumminess of fruit salad.
Then I blinked, and there was my precious baby girl leaning across the kitchen counter and ...
OMIGOD! WHERE DID THOSE COME FROM??!!Continue reading at DadCentric >>