Why moms should ALWAYS shop alone

Imagine, for a moment, that you have been wearing the same 2 pairs of underwear day in and day out for, oh, a year. Let me add that you have ONE additional pair that you wear 3 times a week for exercise. Would you feel happy? Hygienic? Heaven forbid - sexy? I would think not. So I'm talking about bras here, but men have nothing like that, so I figured the underwear would be a good equivalent.

Now imagine that you have been watching the sales flyers like a hawk for the past month or two in order to save a penny (or 40%). Ignoring the fact that your, ahem, "bits" fall out the bottom at random and you're laundering like a madman. Finally, the Sears flyer has a week long promotion...a whole WEEK!!

Jumping with delight (but without too much jumping - remember your bits?), you pack some small people into said department store with you. On a Saturday. People swarming, grabbing, elbowing. The knee high crew also whining, and generally acting like ninnies.

Armed with a very small selection of undergarments, you wedge yourself into a changeroom (louvered doors that reach neither the ceiling nor the floor) and undress. A very squeaky, but clear voice begins a barrage of questions beginning with, "Why is yours so grey compared with the one in the box?" and ending with, "I think that one's too tight - it's squishing your skin out all over the place...."

Exit stage left.

Trying again with only the smallest in tow, you wait for opening Wednesday morning. She can't say much that anyone can understand and at 9:30 there surely can't be a gaggle of customers clamouring for a few changerooms and the only size you need. Surprisingly, you're right and, after stuffing the squawker with a banana, you grab a few things and dash in. The banana finished, shorty pants starts to lose it. The saleslady, now aware that she has prey trapped behind a semi-private louvered door, begins to sweetly enquire as to how everything is fitting and wouldn't you like to be measured. Yeah. No thanks.

After several forays back out into the store, you concede to measure yourself and have the lady just bring you stuff. Your normally spikey hair looks as though you've been pulled through the proverbial knothole backwards and you're on your last nerve anyhow. Somehow there is a victory. Snotty banana kid is calmer and beehive hairdo lady is counting her commission.

One undergarment - $24

One banana - 24 cents

One martini at 10 in the morning - illegal