V is for Victoria ~Or~ The Day I Took the Boy to Victoria's Secret

I'm getting older. Things change when you get older. Add pregnancy to that... No, four pregnancies. And nursing.

Let's just say there was a time after number 4 when nothing fit.

I made do.

I made do for a long time.

But eventually the old maternity bras and nursing bras just weren't cutting it either. I had to do something. I had to go shopping.

Sadly, I didn't have anyone to take my little kids while I did this. It is 80 miles one way to get to any kind of... (uh hem) stores with... underthings.

We were, and still are, for these parts, new to the area. I'm a stay-at-home mama. My darling husband couldn't take the time off, for some reason. I don't remember. Maybe because he has a job! Running a guest ranch? Yeah, that must of been it.

But I had a plan. I wore an undershirt. I tried on new... things over the undershirt.

OK, if I only had girls none of this would have mattered. But my boy, well is extremely aware of, ...women.

I felt this modification was necessary.

All in all, I figured out my size, made my selection and headed out to pay. That's when the trouble started.

Apparently I wasn't getting the right color! Bear wanted me to get the blue one! Excuse me???

Um, Bear, I was getting the color Daddy likes. No, that just wouldn't do. He started grabbing blue under garments out of drawers! But that wasn't even my size! Put that back! Put that down! He was getting louder. We were making a scene!

Oh for heaven sakes! I'll get the blue one!

So how much of a turn on is it to Daddy, knowing his four-year-old picked out Mama's pretty blue unders?

Ha!

I liked the blue one too,  and the story will never be forgotten. Every time I get dressed and undressed!