BRA

Well, I have to say, going to Target today to help my 81-year-old mother find a bra was a new deposit in my personal discomfort bank. I'm sorry, for as laid-back as I can be, hearing my mother talk about her breasts in public, their shape, her needs in a bra because of their shape, and how underwires are the devil, just made me cringe a bit.

She wanted to go to Target because stupid-ass Oprah said the best bra was there. OK, I love Target, let's go. We get there, get over to lingerie, and I ask her so, which bra is it? She didn't know. Um. Well. There are a lot of bras at Target. Any idea? Any?

No.

OK. Well, let's just assume Oprah loves them all. Mom, what size do you need? No clue. Oh, hell. This means I have to visually size up my mother's breasts. Ah, jeez. OK, Mom I think you should try a 34B, k? She begins to poke and prod at all, and I mean ALL, the bras on sale at Target. She has to feel them all and tell me about what she thinks about each and every one.

"OH! This one feels so rubbery! WOULDN'T YOUR BREASTS SWEAT ALL DAY LONG IN THAT?"

"This one is nice, BUT IT'S TOO FULL IN THE CUP FOR ME."

"THESE UNDERWIRES POKE THE SIDES OF MY BREASTS! CAN'T WE FIND A BRA WITHOUT THEM?"

Fighting the strong urge to run down the I-94 freeway, I methodically go through the bras looking for any non-underwire 34B bras. I find three. My mom keeps looking, and poking, and commenting, even though I have found the only three she will want to try on. I tell her she is going to need to try them on, and she asks me if she can just put them on right here in the aisle over her shirt, and I hesitate about .000000000000001 of a second before saying, "NO! Let's go to the fitting rooms. OVER THERE!" I am SO not going in there with her; that is simply too much to ask. She happily finds her room, and I look at t-shirts with ironic 80s slogans.

After several years, she comes out, holding a pink lace bra I did not pick out for her. She tells me the other ones didn't fit, but this one sitting in the fitting room did. HURRAY! I say, throw a wicked black 36C in the cart for me without trying it on, and that is that.