I was getting ready to go to work yesterday and couldn’t find my bra. I don’t know how I could have lost it for a short time. Its not as if its a training bra. More like two mixing bowls attached to a double hammock. Its not something that could be easily overlooked. Keep in mind at my age I’m NOT bragging about bra size. I’m too old for that game.
I started wearing a bra in fourth grade. Slap a pair of glasses on top of that and I was really a confident girl. My other girlfriends didn’t need bras until Jr. high. My best friend, Jenny could get her bras in the bargain bin at Kmart. I had to go find those old ja-ja Cross Your Heart bras. None of the cute lady bugs, squiggles or stuff like that. Jenny used to like to stuff her whole sock drawer in my bra and laugh like a mental patient. Good times. Now that she is older, she has grown her own big girl chest and big bras are not so funny anymore. I gotta tell you it gives me great glee. Because I’m nice like that.
Back to my lost bra. I usually put my bra in a couple different spots. Either on the handle of our bathroom door or on a chair. After my shower I checked both spots and nothing. Its not as as if it was thrown off in a moment of passion. However, I did check the foot of the bed and under the bed in case there was passion and I missed it. Alas, it was not there. I stood in the bedroom and turned around three times mumbling to myself. “Where in the hell is it? What could I have done with it? Am I losing my mind?”
Having to call your husband in the bedroom to help you find your bra is very humbling. I yelled out into the kitchen, “Mr. Bernie, can you come help me find my bra?” He yelled back from the kitchen, “What?” (We are white trash like that and just yell back and forth) I shrieked, “Mr. Bernie. I can’t find my bra. Can you please come help me?!” He slowly ambled into the bedroom chuckling. The chuckling was not appreciated. He started to look on the bed, I told him I already looked there. He then tore the dogs bed apart, thinking she might have take it. Then he looked on the floor, in the bathroom, on my chair and so on. “What did you do with it Bernadette?” I replied, “If I knew that, would I have you in here helping?” Finally, he shut the closet door and found it on that doorknob. I don’t remember putting it there. I don’t think I have ever put it there before. Odd. He handed it to me and asked if I needed help finding my underwear or socks. I assured him I was good and thanked him for his services.
I ended up calling him The Bra Whisper for the rest of the day.