My 21 month old loves to carry purses around. She will carry around anything that has a handle (or strip of material resembling a handle) and announce, "Go bye-bye!" Previous pseudo-purses have included bibs, hats, and articles of clothing. Her purse of choice today was one of my bras which she pilfered from the laundry basket. What disturbed me was that considering the size and depth of the cups, it actually could pass for a two-compartment carryall, albeit a peculiar one.
I used to dress up like a funny old country lady and read aloud the children's book, Possum Come a-Knockin' by Nancy Van Laan. It started out as a stunt for a Gong Show-style fundraiser for a Christian teen outreach ministry, then I later did it for schools, reading conferences, and even my sick sister in the hospital. The costume was hysterical. I found a garish floral blouse and wraparound skirt to clash at Goodwill, then added rolled-down knee high stockings (think Mama's Family) and workboots. I topped it all off with dangly, baubly jewelry, Halloween eyeglasses (the ones with pictures of eyes on the lenses), a battered baseball cap and my favorite, the Billy Bob teeth. What really completed the look, though, was the bra. I had bought the biggest one I could find at Wal-Mart and stuffed it with two large water balloons. Being 8 months pregnant with my first child at the time, you can imagine how outrageously funny this looked.
What depressed me, though, is that after I had my baby and started nursing, that bra fit perfectly! Sigh . . . and to think that once upon a time I got busted for stuffing my tiny training bra with Kleenex. Yep, those were the good ole days!