The Day My Bra Died and Other Random Things That Happened YesterdayYesterday, I was out in a store with my oldest daughter when I suddenly
"Uh, Mom, did you forget to put on a bra?"
"No! I always wear a bra, because I don't like tripping over my boobs, you know that."
"Well, it doesn't look like you're wearing one."
I quickly stepped up to one of those mirror-type columns that seem to frequent all department stores to check my reflection. Sure enough, my boobs were in their favorite bra-less go-to position: downward facing dog. What the h? I know I put on my favorite bra this morning! I'm sure I did. At least, I think I did.
I am, however, in a very forgetful stage right now, because of some medical issues, so anything is possible. But I could feel the bra straps through my shirt and it confirmed that, yep, it was definitely still ON. So, what was happening? My favorite bra had died.
My favorite bra was dead! And she had a very specific medical directive. She requested a DNR. (Do Not Resuscitate) Cause she knows me so well. I would have done anything to save her. Poor thing. The real "miracle" is that bra lasted as long as she did, considering the sizable burdens she had to carry around all day. I'm really going to miss her, cause they just don't make them like they used to. Literally. They don't make them anymore. And obviously, I am in dire need of a replacement.
Since my oldest and I were in a department store, I decided to try to find a replacement, immediately. It's amazing how quickly someone you relied on for years can be replaced. I found a couple of newer, younger models but just like trophy wives they will be exciting for their possibilities but in actuality they will quickly loose their novelty and wind up being a huge disappointment, compared to the original.
Besides the hard stares from people who believe I intentionally left my house, au natural, here's what else happens when Jaybird goes to check-out in a crowded department store:
I placed my newer, sportier and sure to disappoint me versions of my fav bra on top of the counter, as well as a few more items my daughter wanted. But some of the items started to fall. So naturally I bent over to pick them up. It was at this opportune moment, my cell phone started to ring. Only my middle daughter (who is a techie-whiz and loves to jack with electronics b/c she thinks it's hilarious) had replaced my ring tone with one that FARTS. And, of course, she had turned the volume up LOUD.
If any of you knows anything about COPS, they tease the crap out of each other for fun. And apparently, The Husband eating protein bars made especially for women, was freaking hilarious. (which I kinda have to agree) But I can't deal with him right now because I'm still on line and my shit is falling on the floor and everyone around me already hates me because of my ring tone and I'm going so slow and talking on the phone....I am trying to wrestle my wallet out of my purse with one hand because I'm holding my cell in the other, when it pops out, along with three or four MAXI PADS as they fly up in the air in a giant arc, and fall like they are in slow motion, all over the floor and onto my ten year old daughter's feet. I look at her and I can't tell if she's going to piss her pants laughing or she's going to start to cry!! She just looks at me and it's one of THOSE looks. Full of just so much resignation that, yes, this really is my MOM and she mutters just one word, but it sums this entire train wreck of a shopping trip/day with me, all up: