”I want a training bra.” My stepdaughter has informed the family that it’s time for her boobs, (boobs?) to be covered in a white, uncomfortable, THING- (because training bras are not really bras,) and this time, is now. And quite honestly- what are they being trained for? This child is as SKINNY as a rail. She’s supermodel material, and all people know that supermodels do not have to wear bras. Seriously. God made them really astonishingly beautiful, but forgot their no-nos, and surprisingly, (or not,) I’m totally alright with that.
We sat down with her mother this evening to discuss a few expectations we had of her behavior, and her mother looked at us in all sincerity and said, “I cannot get K. to understand that she’s not getting a training bra. She comes home with them.” (Are they giving these things out in school? Was this something I was unaware of in the 3rd grade? ….. DID I MISS OUT?) Her mom states that she suspects it’s her friends, (the trashy 3rd graders she hangs with,) -(which is what happens when trophy wives replicate,) and I sat shocked on the couch and I sincrerely think I asked her poor mom, “are you sure? Like it was in her bag? Did you throw it out? What happens if it comes to our house? Do I kill it with fire? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?” … and it hits me… almost at once…..
THIS. IS. THE. WORK. OF. THOSE. FREAKING. BRATZ. DOLLS.
They’re training for their lucite heels and boob jobs already, and this really worries me. The kiddo is eight- she should be having her first communion or something, (is the Catholic showing?) And she should be playing with toads, and wanting extra dessert and doing ridiculous things that 3rd graders do, like– (I don’t know…) show each other their bug bites.
You know what’s next, don’t you? The shaving. The kid doesn’t even have hair on her adorable legs, and she’s going to want to shave them, and I’m going to tell her… NEVER SHAVE YOUR LEGS. Once you shave? It doesn’t stop. It’s endless, and you prick your husband to be in bed with the hair from your legs that has miraculously grown in 12 hours and it’s not at all like the commercials. You’ll cut yourself, you’ll bleed, and you’ll never look as relaxed, or experienced as the woman in the Intuition commercials, even if you play Jewel in the background. What’s next… her PERIOD in like a month? If that happens? Visitation ceases. I can’t deal with a pmsing 3rd grader. (What the hell-kinda-hormones are these kids eating?) She can’t even take midol- isn’t it for people 12 and older? I’d have to cut them in half… and doesn’t that say it all?
Bras at 8, shaving at 8.25 and pregnant at 10. I can see it now. (We’re still in the ‘boys are disgusting’ phase- which I ..love… so why exactly is she feeling the need to ‘train’ something that isn’t even there.)
I remember being in, (shut up Josh,) EIGHTH grade and begging my mom to take me to JCPENNEY because I was the ONLY girl in the grade who would change for gym and have NO BRA. Granted- I had started getting, (something? A rash? I dunno. The boobs didn’t really come until 11th grade,) so… I wore this sports bra- because regular bras didn’t fit, and no one was ever made fun of for having a bra early- because the girls that did? Were the girls that kissed the boys inside the tunnel on the playground, (those skanks,) so we hid from each other in the locker room, and I prayed that someday Almightly Jesus would give me boobs. (However, he was entirely too generous in college.) So… if I asked my mom for a training bra? (She would have choked on her Diet Caffeine-Free Pepsi,) and sent me to watch more Mother Angelica, or pray some Hail Marys.
Can someone please, thank me- for my insight into the matter about 2 days ago when I tried to explain to my hubby-to-be why his precocious, little girl shouldn’t be playing with tranny-prostitute dolls? What did I say… (that it would reinforce a negative image of growing up in an unhealthy environment that glorifies itself on flesh and sex? …which sounds totally Mother Angelica…) but- little girls- should be little girls.
You know what’s next, don’t you? Training Birth Control Pills. (You know… just to see how it feels, and show the case to their friends.) That’ll be marketed at a Limited Too near you.
You don’t even understand what going from mommy of one- to stepmommy of a negative-cup-sized-hormonal-raged-3rd-grader is doing to me.
….I hate those bratz dolls.
Thank GOD, Josh has a sense of humor. We’d all be dead by now.
