The Boy Child went on his first-ever sleepover on Friday night so the Girl Child and I spent some quality time.
Trying on bras.
Girl Child is fairly new to this entire Womanhood thing (so new that she's never had the BIG initiation which usually includes white shorts and deep and unending shame)so she had never put on a bra before. She owns four now, including one padded one (sigh) which I bought her on Friday. They've all stayed, stoically waiting in her drawer, until now.
"How the crap do I put this thing on mom?"
I've never given lessons on how to put on a bra. In fact, I don't remember anyone ever telling me how to put one on either. Hmm. Despite this, I think I did well.
"Is it me, or is this really weird?"
Yes Girl Child. It's weird. I have been wearing a bra for the past...oh, twenty-twoish years and it has never failed to be weird. One weird incident was when the Girl Child, age not quite two, put my red lace bra on her head, like a hat, and pranced about in front of company.
The preacher, if you want to be exact.
That was weird.
"Is it me, or do I look like a bimbo?"
Not going there.
"Mom, seriously. Do I have to wear one of these the rest of my life?"
You are your mother's girl. The answer is an empathic YES.