The other day I was wandering around in Wal-Mart, a privilege that I know I still have only by good luck, and I spotted a father & daughter. She was saying she needed new underwear and the father was saying ‘just come back with your mother’
It reminded me of when my own daughter needed her first bra. It was about a year after my wife left us, so I was mother and father and cook. As it turns out I only really succeeded at one of the three, but that’s another story.
So I took my daughter to the store trying to figure out how to use my knowledge of bra’s to her advantage. The problem being the only thing I really knew was how to remove them one-handed. Try as I might, I couldn’t find a way to use that knowledge. I just live too far north for that to be useful.
So we arrived and I had a new plan. She could get whatever she wanted no matter the cost as long as we got it and got out. Simple. Except there were different types and sizes and and and…. So there we were, father and daughter looking over racks of little girl undergarments and trying to figure out what she needed.
I suddenly realized that I was getting all the odd looks, and after about a minute I figured out why. My daughter was short, shorter than the rack filled with little girl underwear. I on the other hand am tall, about 14 inches or more above the top.
It takes a lot to get strange looks when you’re at Wal-Mart, and while we can debate where the line is, a male standing apparently alone in the little girls underwear section is far across that line.
To my daughters good fortune (and to the relief of my arrest record) a female employee wandered by and I was able to enlist her help. I still don’t know what my daughter bought or how she decided it, but she got what she needed and I didn’t get banned from Wal-Mart.
Over all a success – but given a choice, it would have been easier to not let my daughter grow up.