Some girls are better than others

A few weeks ago, I was tired of the pinching crap nursing bras I owned. I decided to march on over to a speciality store. I figured I would receive helpful assistance in finding the perfect bra. I had started running again. Although I am not huge, I am still not used to the actually bouncing of my breasts while running. So, I was looking for an excellent running bra as well. I went in; the host of the store seemed pleasant enough. Yes, she insisted on marching in and checking the fit. I will explain she was of the larger variety. Hence, a few inches probably weren't even observable by her. When she measured me, she squeezed the tape tightly and gave me the same number as my pre-pregnancy self. "No", I assured her. "If I had that kind of measurement, I would just need a thin shelf of lycra and I could be on my way."

"Well, you are a small one."

"Measure again!", I requested. She then went up one cup. I decided to humor her and tried on the bra. My right breast fell out the bottom. She insisted that it was just a matter of adjusting the back strap. Please, I requested a bigger size. "Well, we only have one in THAT size!" I enjoyed how she let the whole small boutique know I was small. The other woman who was measured got a pleasant shout-out of "j" or maybe "f". Either way, she did not come up lacking in the goods.

After that was settled, I looked for a jogging bra. "Oh, that's not good for your milk! And we would have them if you were BIGGER. You are so small we just don't have anything for you!" I assured her, I have run with every child and it was okay. She peered closely, "Do you have enough milk?", she queried. I'm sure she wanted assurance that watermelons were much more successful at feeding the young than my small limes. That some how, I would suffer for even contemplating jogging and nursing. I leaned in and let her know my two-month-old had gained over five pounds since birth.

As I explained my unsatisfactory experience with my husband, I described it like this: "How would you like to go buy some boxers and have your length come up short? As the clerk measured, the clerk would be loud enough to assure other shoppers you were below average. And then, at the end, this well-endowed clerk would question your ability to father children?"

Okay, so maybe I was being sensitive. But, I felt like I was 12 again trying to hide in my poser bra while getting ready for gym.