Pantene-D

When I was 18 or 19, I went on a road trip with four other young woman about my same age. It was a church trip that lasted about 1 1/2 hours. When I climbed into the back seat, I took one of those really uncomfortable hair claws out of my wet hair so I could sit back without pain. With one uniform breath, the other girls said "Pantene." Oh yes, women know these things. That is how we can smell another woman's perfume on our boyfriend or husband. That is how we know who has been holding our baby. We have uncanny skills of observation, because we are one rib sneakier than the male population. Most of the time we use our skills for good, like knowing what brand of perfume someone wears, to buy them the perfect gift. Other times we are more devious as we use our observations to steal someone else's man or to say something vicious and catty to get rid of an annoying competitor. All's fair in love and war, they say.

When we reached our destination, they asked for volunteers to get wet and our carload volunteered. "You will need an extra set of clothes," the lady told us. "We have everything that you need." They sure did, from underwear on out. I was second or third in line. When I got to the counter the lady asked my sizes and when she asked my bra size, everyone was perfectly silent awaiting the response. No exaggeration! You may have heard the phrase "pregnant pause," this pause was carrying multiples! That is another thing about women. We are competitive and comparative with other women. So I give the lady my bra size and she must have spent 57 YEARS looking for one. I have a narrow rib cage and fleshy front parts, so it is an unusual size. But why, why did she have to say the size over and over as she searched. Finally, she found an alternate size and I moved my mortified body to one side so the catty chics, I mean "other ladies" could get their clothes. (Right now, my readers may wonder, what size is she? I don't think I will say!).

Here is the thing about bust sizes; if you want, say, a D-cup, you also get the birthing hips and big feet that come with it. Be careful what you wish for. There is also back pain and rarely finding a button up or crossover shirt that stays where you want it. That may sound good to you, but I like to keep my modesty and hold it close. Thank goodness for underwire!