Some claim that I, a straight American male, am biologically hard-wired to notice breasts.
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??!!
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