Last evening, for reasons I cannot remember, my eight-and-a-half-year-old third grader asked if she could get a bra. Well, bras . For a girl, the first bra is a big deal, and I am fairly certain that the vast majority of ladies out there remember their first (or at least early) experience with that mystical piece of fabric. My earliest memory of bra-land was in the fourth grade. A note came home informing families that scoliosis tests were being conducted the next day. Girls were instructed to wear a bra, so they could be examined together in the same room (rather than sending them one at a time into a smaller room with the nurse). I was a skinny, flat-chested girl, and I did not own this white, shapeless garment, unlike every other girl in my class (most of whom were equally as flat-chested). So when the school nurse conducted the test, I was examined separately, while everyone else got to giggle with one another. I remember being pretty embarrassed. Even worse was getting the ner...
The various, and usually long-winded, thoughts that swim around my head.