Here at the Modern English School in Cairo, we have two breaks a day between our classes. Each break is about thirty minutes, and that half hour is filled with the cheerful sound of little egyptian children beating each other up, and the smell of said little egyptian children, the smell of b.o. and feet, such a sweet, mouthwatering scent. These golden half hours that give us a break from work, are also filled with hilarious conversations and us seniors trying to avoid being caught breaking the uniform regulations. Here is a selection from one of those hilarious conversations between myself, my friends N, Y, and K. It starts out with my friend Y and I leaning up against N's shoulder's for pillows:
K: N, you look as though you are going to be breast feeding them.
Y: (jokingly) Mamy!
Me: You know, I never liked boobs. Even when I was little. I refused to breast feed and forced my mother to pump.
K: Lovely. (turns bright red and laughs hysterically)
N: My breasts. (pushes Y and me away)
K: You never liked boobs at all?