I have your boobs.

I feel it necessary to inform you all that I just nearly sprained my neck in my haste to go back and reread a Facebook comment that I was 99% positive said, “I have your boobs.”

Well well. This day just got a couple of cup sizes more interesting, now didn’t it?

Me being me, by the halfway point of my double-take I was already doing what I do best: logic-ing up my own explanation for what could possibly have been meant by the statement without any regard whatsoever for context or common sense.

Four little words, so many potential interpretations. See if you can spot the correct one below.

(a) Commenter is holding the OP’s boobs for ransom but lacked any magazines or newspapers with which to construct a proper non-social-media ransom note, because really who has magazines or newspapers lying around the house these days when you can just access them all online?

(b) Commenter borrowed the OP’s boobs for the weekend and wants to return them but OP hasn’t been answering her texts, so commenter resorted to contacting her publicly on Facebook instead.

(c) Commenter is OP’s daughter. She’s always thought her mom had an awesome rack, is super stoked that genetics favored her with a matching set, and figured it was high time she let the world know it.

(d) OP was announcing an author Q&A and what the commenter actually said was, “I have your books,” and I’m just an idiot.

If you were around for my A to Z Challenge post where I mentioned my habit of cutting corners when I read and the hilariously baffling literary misunderstandings that ensue, then you’ll know the correct answer is (d).

You’d also think I’d be wise to my own shenanigans by now and jump to the conclusion of (d) myself in the first place, but you there you would be wrong.

So very wrong.

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