I’ll never understand how my husband can be equal parts smart, sweet & skeevy perv. He holds a stressful, high-tech job, is a great dad, a wonderful partner to me, and most people he meet seem to love him. He also has a breast fetish unlike any man I’ve ever met. Seriously, he’s never seen a pair he didn’t like. I’m even pretty sure I witnessed him getting turned on during the old lady/bathtub scene in The Shining once.

So it only stands to reason that the first thing he did once the ink was dry on his Dresden work contract is look up every possible word associated with & pronunciation of…. you got it…. breasts. This is how I found out that german word for nipples is ‘brustwarzen’…. literal translation: breast warts. What the hell?? And believe you me, Jim’s had a field day with it. For weeks now I’ve had to endure comments about my how my ‘warts’ look in various stages of undress.

He’s also settled on a new favorite term… ‘grossen titsens’. Rough (very rough) translation…. big tits. Everywhere we go now he ranks ‘em on his ‘grossen titsen’ scale…. as in “now those are some grossen titsens!”, or “those are only half-grossen, but I did get to see the warts poking through the shirt, so it’s all good”, or my personal favorite “hey b., bring those grossen titsens over here so daddy can play motorboat!”. A monster has officially been created.

His latest phrase- ‘ich habe grossen titsens’. I’m too mean to tell him this translates to “I’m having big tits”. I figure he’ll learn it the hard way when he says it to a group of buddies one day while oogling some bodacious beer-frau.

On this day..

• Done deal. - 2008
• Ben, his Baldwin & Berlin. - 2007
• Vive la France! - 2007