Last night, upon my return home from work, Hubby (who had left his work early due to the stomach bug) asked me if I would head out to Walmart or Target later that evening after the boyz were in bed. He had a list of stuff we needed for the Trenches.
By the time we got everyone settled (past 8pm), I had already changed into my "comfy" clothes--you know the ones: tee shirt, baggy exercise pants, no bra.
Crap! Still had to take one for the team and venture out to Target/Walmart.
So I simply threw on a sweatshirt and headed out. Braless. To Walmart. After 8pm.
Where I most definitely blended in with the rest of the Walmart crowd, especially in our Central Massachusetts neck of the woods.
Because where else can you buy applesauce, undershirts and curtain tie backs all in one-stop-shopping?
Sure, I could've gone to Target as well...
But then I definitely would have had to wear a bra.
By the time we got everyone settled (past 8pm), I had already changed into my "comfy" clothes--you know the ones: tee shirt, baggy exercise pants, no bra.
Crap! Still had to take one for the team and venture out to Target/Walmart.
So I simply threw on a sweatshirt and headed out. Braless. To Walmart. After 8pm.
Where I most definitely blended in with the rest of the Walmart crowd, especially in our Central Massachusetts neck of the woods.
Because where else can you buy applesauce, undershirts and curtain tie backs all in one-stop-shopping?
Sure, I could've gone to Target as well...
But then I definitely would have had to wear a bra.
Cross-posted at In the Trenches of Mommyhood
Exactly. The brassiere-necessitating sophistication is why it must be pronounced all Frenchy: "Tar-jay."
Posted by: Binky | May 15, 2008 at 05:57 PM