I didn’t realize that shopping for undergarments for my teenage daughter would result in so much embarrassment that a heavy dose of convincing and bribing would be required. After telling me six times that she didn’t want to go she finished with, “Can we bring one of the boys?”
Since I knew that no boy on planet Earth, unless they are under the age of two and complete clueless to what undergarments are, would step foot in a store and enter the undergarments section, I said, “Sure!” Next I turned the television to mute, and questioned the boy pile collapsed on the couch playing a game of “Smell my feet.”
“Who wants to go bra shopping at the mall?” The three boys couldn’t sit on their hands fast enough and in addition, stared directly at the ceiling so as to not make eye contact.
“Well, I guess it’s just you and me girl” I said to my daughter standing up to grab my purse. “Well I don’t want to go either,” she replied. “I hear a Chai Tea Latte calling your name” was the last chance I had to convince her, which worked. I also reminded her about all the fun were going to have trying on bras that were too big and snapping each other’s bra straps, and how we could indulge in high fat, and sugar laden snacks from the mall which can only described with words like sticky, drizzled, and oodles.
She walked slower leaving the house than a lion sneaking up on his prey, so I told her that I would purchase the undergarments for her while she visited other shops, and that I would give her an advance on her allowance so that she would have enough money to purchase some shoes that she dreams about nightly. I’m nice like that.
When we got to the mall I went directly to the store which sells her favorite undergarments as she darted off in the opposite direction. I was tempted to shout out, “I’ll be in here buying you a cute bra!” but muted my words.
To my grave disappointment the store that I visited, no longer carries undergarments. Lucky for my daughter. I left the store and met my daughter at the department store where she was drooling over the new shoe smell. She was thrilled that I was not carrying any new purchases in my arms and when I suggested that I visit the lingerie section of the store we were in currently, she walked in the opposite direction and buried her head in some bracelets and sunglasses.
I am certain that three years from now when my daughter is entering college, she will be wearing the exact same bra, whether it fits or not. It's not like I haven't tried.
Since I knew that no boy on planet Earth, unless they are under the age of two and complete clueless to what undergarments are, would step foot in a store and enter the undergarments section, I said, “Sure!” Next I turned the television to mute, and questioned the boy pile collapsed on the couch playing a game of “Smell my feet.”
“Who wants to go bra shopping at the mall?” The three boys couldn’t sit on their hands fast enough and in addition, stared directly at the ceiling so as to not make eye contact.
“Well, I guess it’s just you and me girl” I said to my daughter standing up to grab my purse. “Well I don’t want to go either,” she replied. “I hear a Chai Tea Latte calling your name” was the last chance I had to convince her, which worked. I also reminded her about all the fun were going to have trying on bras that were too big and snapping each other’s bra straps, and how we could indulge in high fat, and sugar laden snacks from the mall which can only described with words like sticky, drizzled, and oodles.
She walked slower leaving the house than a lion sneaking up on his prey, so I told her that I would purchase the undergarments for her while she visited other shops, and that I would give her an advance on her allowance so that she would have enough money to purchase some shoes that she dreams about nightly. I’m nice like that.
When we got to the mall I went directly to the store which sells her favorite undergarments as she darted off in the opposite direction. I was tempted to shout out, “I’ll be in here buying you a cute bra!” but muted my words.
To my grave disappointment the store that I visited, no longer carries undergarments. Lucky for my daughter. I left the store and met my daughter at the department store where she was drooling over the new shoe smell. She was thrilled that I was not carrying any new purchases in my arms and when I suggested that I visit the lingerie section of the store we were in currently, she walked in the opposite direction and buried her head in some bracelets and sunglasses.
I am certain that three years from now when my daughter is entering college, she will be wearing the exact same bra, whether it fits or not. It's not like I haven't tried.
Comments
that is not at all what kevin leeman described in the bra shopping section of my summer reading "a chicken's guide to talking turkey to your kids about sex."
i usually need a mike's hard lemonade before and after i go bra shopping (and bathing suit shopping).
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