Bras

When you are the lone woman in a house full of men, you learn to live without privacy, and to explain "all things girl."

Body parts -- or lack thereof -- tampons and bras - just to name a few.

The body part one is always fun. When I was a stay-at-home mom, I couldn't take a shower without one of the younger ones making himself comfortable in the bathroom. The conversations that would occur are terribly funny... but even I am too embarrassed to write what they said.

I can't remember how many boxes of tampons I lost because a son would find them, unwrap each of them, and pull them apart.

Oh - and bras. By the time each were four years old, they had tried them on, or wore several at once.

But I didn't realize just how intriguing bras could be until last night.

Ethan is involved in this one, in case you couldn't figure it out.

I had washed several bras and laid them out to dry in my bedroom. Each formed in perfect domes to keep their shape. Then Ethan came in...

Ethan: What are these doing?

Me: They are drying because I washed them.

I turned around to dig into another laundry basket and tackle more clothes. When I came up, Ethan had squished all my finely formed domes.

Me: Ethan! Don't do that!

Ethan: Why? They were all puffy!

Me: They are supposed to be like that. If you squish them, they'll dry all wrinkled.

Ethan looks down at them carefully.

Ethan: Why do you have to wear these?

Me: Because woman have boobs and they need to be protected.

pause

He considers this for a moment.

Ethan: But why are your bras so big?

Me: (sigh) They aren't that big.

He looks down again.

Ethan: Yeah they are.

Me: Ethan, fix the bras please.

Ethan: What am I supposed to do?

Me: Puff them back up.

Ethan goes down the assembly line and carefully pushes them back into domes.

I turn away to grab more laundry to fold. I come up. Now he is caressing the bras.

omg

Me: Ethan. What are you doing?

Ethan: They are so soft.

He is now taking his pointy finger and poking them... trying to see if I'll notice that once again, he wants to push them down.

Me: Don't even think about it Ethan.

He looks me in the eye with his charming little smile. And he pushes two down.

Me: ETHAN! I am not kidding you. Please. Really don't do that! I am going to get angry. Leave them alone. Okay?

He sighs and agrees to leave them alone.

Me: I need to go to the laundry room and get more clothes. Please don't mess with the bras, okay?

Ethan: Okay.

Who am I kidding?

About ten minutes later, I head back into the bedroom. There is a little hallway before you walk into the door, and I see Ethan's reflection in our big window. He is standing on the bed, wearing a bra and looking at himself in the mirror.

Me: Ethan?

Ethan turns to me.

Ethan: I'm wearing your bra (he giggles).

Me: Yes. I can see that.

Then he puts his hands on the bra cups - again caressing them.

Really?

Ethan: I like these.

Really.