It’s been quite the month and when I ever have time I’ll be writing an article titled October, the New Monday, but I must share this little tidbit with my Gather friends without delay.

I had purchased a costume several weeks ago. It was a Renaissance gown and my daughter actually chose it. I’d have never chosen purple. I finally tried it on a few days ago to discover that it was itchy and made my chest look even flatter than it is. The costume had to go back.

Last night I returned it and the clerk at customer service asked me if anything was wrong with it; I presume she wanted to know if it was still saleable. I answered that there was nothing wrong with it but that it itched and I couldn’t tolerate it. My daughter then piped up  in her voice that she only uses when saying something embarrassing in public, the loud voice that carries for miles. She wanted to share that the real reason mom was returning the gown was that it smashed her boobs and made them look littler than they are, which is pretty little.

With the itchy, unflattering costume returned, I went in search of a different costume. I could not find one at that store since I am so picky. I have to be able to wear my silk thermal underwear underneath it since it could be 30 degrees when we take the kids trick-or-treating. It has to be acceptable to wear to the homeschool Halloween party. It can’t be itchy. I’m picky.

My husband insisted that we head over to the costume shop as he did not want to go to every K-Mart, Wal-Mart, Target, etc. in town with tired, hungry kids in tow only to go home empty-handed. I was initially against the costume shop since it is so much more expensive than the discount stores but I saw his point and we headed to the costume shop.

On the way there the conversation turned to boobs when I addressed the concept of TMFI to my daughter who is just beginning to develop breasts. At some point we spoke of implants and the fact that I’d get them if we could afford them so that I could actually buy bras and bathing suits that fit me. My bras are the Almost A cup size and I can’t even fill them up. My husband said that maybe someday he would be able to buy mom some boobs.

We wandered about the costume shop and eventually found ourselves in a little back area by the fitting rooms. Unnoticed by me, this is apparently where the more adult costumes are.

Remember that voice I told you about? The one that kids only use when they are saying something embarrassing in public? This time it came from my four year old son.

“Look Mom! Don’t you want to buy some boobs?”

Up on the wall, well above eye level, was a pair of huge strap-on rubber boobs with large, hot-pink nipples.

At first the silence was deafening. Then everyone in the store began to laugh.

I’m still considering buying the boobs when I go to return the costume that I bought last night. I don’t have enough boobs to fill it up.