We’re sitting at the Hat having dinner with the kids on Wednesday night when suddenly my bra breaks. You know when the under-wire part has just had enough of its heavy load and decides that this is it….I�m so over the whole bosom thing…..so it snaps? And dies? And leaves you out there hanging?
Well, being the entirely prudish, cool and collected mother that I am, I exclaimed loudly to the entire table and anyone else within a 20 foot radius, ‘Hey! My bra just broke! Dude!’ After which my face immediately turned red.
Now, I’ll go up to total strangers and tell them that my bra broke if I want to. I’ll go up to people in the laundry mat or train station of anywhere you can think of and ask them why they pierced their nose and attached a chain and does it hurt and does snot get caught in it and tell them about the time right after I had a baby when I walked down the hospital hallway from the bathroom and my mostly used pad fell down my leg and out on the floor because it didn’t have any sticky stuff on the bottom to keep it stuck on my panties and why are hospital people so dumb as to buy the same kind of sanitary napkin that I was forced to use growing up because my dad bought a year supply of the Stayfree brand with no sticky stuff and instead came with the little hook and belt thingy that lasted clearly longer than one year and probably close to 4 years.
So the blushing wasn’t because of the content of what I’d just said. That’s wasn’t it at all. The problem was that right after I said it, I realized that I couldn’t have stopped myself from saying it if I’d wanted to. I had no control over what popped out of my mouth. It was just like an unexpected bit of gas. And thank goodness it was my kids and husband and not Gwen Stefani. Or my boss. And who knows what else I’d say should the occasion call for it? That is why I turned red.
It’s not like a person can practice this kind of thing, either. You can’t unknowingly will your bra to break when you aren’t expecting it so you can practice not exclaiming things out loud. I’m concerned. Deeply concerned.
Let’s just hope that I don’t accidentally have my underwear explode or my shirt unbutton by itself (It could happen…I’ve seen that cologne commercial….) next time I’m in a meeting.