Yes Chelsea, Part 4 (Patreon)

*Chelsea Richter, age 16

“Hey…Do you need help or something?”

At first I was mad when I called out to my mom and she completely ignored me. I had seen her outside working on her garden and felt bad just sitting around watching tv while she was out there working her ass off. But when I tries to get her attention, she didn’t respond at all. At first I thought she was blowing me off until she looked over in my direction and jumped a little before taking her headphones out of her ears and smiling.

She apologized for missing me, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking at her outfit. She had a cute sundress on that she’d picked up a few months ago at the mall. It made her look…pretty, but what really caught my attention was just how insanely huge her boobs were. Every time she moved, it was like they were filled with water and threating to splash out from over the top of her dress. Admittedly, I was looking for too long because she caught me and made a face at me for being weird.

I realized I had been caught and given that mom seemed to instantly know every time I even tried to lie to her, I just blurted out that her boobs were huge. She just laughed and teased me for being small compared to her while agreeing that they wererather large. According to her, she didn’t really start filling out up top until she was pregnant with me, which wasn’t very reassuring since she got pregnant at 15 years old and was pushing me in a stroller by the time she was my age.

I wasn’t so much insecure about my body as I was concerned about when and if it would change to something more attractive than what I was working with. I already felt like I looked like a kid with my small chest and baby face, and cutting my hair so short had only made it worse.

Eventually mom walked me through what she was doing and taught me how to prune roses and plant new flowers. It was nice really. We didn’t fight or argue about anything, and the work itself was pretty satisfying by the end of it. I could remember it all just being green grass and sprinklers when we moved in, but having done my part to help out a little bit made me appreciate just how nice it really looked out there.

More than that, I was getting ideas for flowerbeds and decorations of my own. Apparently mom and I do still get along when we find something we can both do together.

….I didn’t hate that.

*Olivia Richter, age 31

“Oh? Sure! I’d love some help, thanks, Chelsea!”

I was pleasantly surprised when Chelsea came outside on her own and offered to help me in the garden. She actually scared the shit out of me because I had my headphones in and when I looked up, there was this…WOMAN standing ion my patio staring at me. It’s crazy to see how big she is now when just 2 months ago she was learning to stand upright, and last week she was in kindergarten.

I sort of looked at her for a moment and realized that she really had taken to the makeup I bought her pretty hard, despite her insistence at the time that she’d never use it. It was then however that I also realized that she wasn’t really looking at me. Her eyes were absolutely glued to my chest which, while something I am used to from men wasn’t something I expected or remotely wanted from my daughter, so I was like “HEY, UM. WTF. EYES UP HERE CHELS.”

To my GREAT relief, Chelsea snapped out of get apparent daze and explained that she was just having a case of boob-envy since the women on my side of the family are all super busty while she was just shy of flat. It did confuse me as to why this was suddenly a thing since it’d just been the two of us alone for a long time and we weren’t exactly shy about walking around in our underwear or pajamas. I guess it was just like me noticing how grown up she was….probably combined with being a horny, hormonal teenage girl with no tits living with an F cup mom.

I put her to work and we chatted about….boobs. Sex appeal. Just the absolute most girly, insecure private stuff and it was honestly kinda great. I gave her some tips on how to garden while talking about what kinda guys we like. Apparently she has a thing for a boy at school, but she danced around that as best she could while sideways asking how to look sexy and when my tits started growing in earnest, which was …pregnancy.

Granted, I’m not about to tell my daughter to get knocked up in junior year, but I’m not really one to talk since I was a sophomore when I got pregnant by her dad: a pothead punk in a denim vest he found in his dad’s closet. He called himself Smoke, and I thought it was SOOOOO cool because you know…weed and cigarettes and sex and stuff. Turns out that was just his main in Mortal Kombat and he thought he was a ninja demon lord or some shit. I warned Chelsea to be more selective than I was, or her badass “Smoke” ninja would turn into Carl the deadbeat Methhead….That fucker still owes me 12 years of child support.

But really, it was just a nice day out with my daughter. I felt like we were becoming friends again, but not like a mommy and her little girl, but like two women with stuff in common. It was super nice, and it made me even happier because by the time we were done, she told me that she enjoyed gardening and wanted a plot of her own to grow herbs and witchy shit or whatever.

Happy mom is happy.