Granny was always a classy lady. Her hair always looked pretty and she always smelled good. Before she knew about the stores Bath & Body Works or Victoria’s Secret, granny was already mixing lotions, perfumes and body sprays to make sweet-smelling concoctions. When I was about twelve years old, we visited a friend who was in the end stages of A.I.D.S. and suffering from dementia. When granny walked into his hospital room, he suddenly yelled out, “Annie Lee, you smell so good you make my balls jump!” I wasn’t quite sure what “balls” meant, but granny’s blushing and dumbstruck face hinted that her sweet smell had set off the wrong kind of alarms. Everything had to be just right. Granny’s clothes and even her undergarments. And her breasts had to sit just right too. Today, I found granny’s bra inserts. You know, the ones that are made out of a spongy material, are flesh colored, and look like half-breasts – made complete by little nipples sticking out. The only problem is that they were peach-colored – hardly the color of granny’s brown flesh. And granny could hardly be called small-breasted. But, she rocked those lil’ bad boys every day. “You should get you some. Maybe your clothes would fit better,” she used to tell me – the President, Secretary and Treasurer of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. She wore those things wherever she went, including the hospital. During one such hospitalization, an x-ray tech noticed that she had them on as he prepared her for an MRI. “What are those?” he asked her. “You know what they are,” she said coyly. It always amazes me that granny was not ashamed to walk around with the breasts of a white sponge woman. She managed to lose her teeth, but she held on to those sponge breasts until she was discharged. Well, once a lady, always a lady.