The first two years after Lisa died, I had no idea what these things were. I found them everywhere, especially in the summertime. Different shapes and sizes. Various colors. In the laundry, on the bedroom floor, occasionally one precariously perched on a basement step.
I pondered their use.
Maybe one of the girls is dating a nice Jewish boy.
Nah. They would have told me. None can hold a secret.
I remembered I once had a scratched retina. Could it be a white eyepatch.
Maybe a broken earmuff –
But why were they more prevalent in the summer?
I got some peanuts and sat down with my iPad to research.
When DJ entered the house, she looked at me strangely.
“Why are you using a bra pad to store your nuts?”
Ahhh – it was all beginning to make sense.
My next questions were more difficult to answer: Why aren’t they in the bra or the bathing suit? Why are they scattered about our home?
What I found is that there are two kinds of chest inserts. One is trapped – it can’t come out. The second is gently nestled inside the outer cover but there is an opening on the side, like the fly on a man’s boxers. But apparently this pad does not enjoy being cooped up.
The problem with both is that the insert is not sewn in. It is loose. So, if there isn’t an opening, the dang thing gets waded up and it looks like you’ve got a Beanie Baby shoved in your bosom. If it does have a hole and it falls out, you can see full, unhampered boobage.
Neither is a good option.
Why don’t they secure this insert? You wouldn’t toss some elastic around the waistline of your boxers and not sew it in! No, you stabilize it with needle and thread so that there is no question that your underwear finish the day in the same place they started.
Who invents these things?
It should be me.
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