Now that the baby's down to nursing once a day, I decided it was time to ditch the nursing bras and buy some regular ones. We were at Wal-Mart, and I steered the family toward the women's clothing area.
Since my boys are all too young to be embarrassed by bra shopping with their mother, they were eager to help. I asked them to look for my size, and for the two who can read I asked them to look for cotton. Eventually, I came away with two new bras and a sports bra for sleeping in.
That night, I put on my new sports bra and pajama pants and began my nightly rituals. As I stood brushing my teeth, Isaac (3) came in.
"Mommy, are those your new ones?" he asked, pointing at my chest.
I choked on the toothpaste. "What?"
Getting closer, he poked me in the sports bra. "Are those your new ones?"
Trying not to laugh, I said, "Oh, yes, this is one of my new ones."
Satisfied, he turned to go. Suddenly, I realized the embarrassment to come if I didn't say something. "Isaac?" I said.
He turned back. "What?"
"Please don't go around telling people, 'Mommy got new ones.'"
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