I am working on my computer, the children are in bed, it is late on a Saturday night.
My 68 year old mother comes trudging into my room,with a confused expression on her face. "Robin, can you help me figure this out?" She asks.
"What is it mom?" I reply, a bit nervous.
"Well, I've never had a bra that fit me quite right." She says, "But, I found this cute little chart to help me fit a bra properly, and I need help."
Oh S&^$#.
She hands me a little piece of paper with a diagram showing how to measure for the best bra fit. Next to the instructions are her numbers, 32+4 36-4 2, 7 a, b. Ohhhhh, this should be fun.
She begins explaining: "First, it says to measure below the bra band." I look at the number placed next to this instruction. I ask her where she measured and she lifts up the three layers of clothing to show me her waist.
"Mom! What the heck are you measuring there for? " I ask...
"Well, that's where my bra band goes...."
Seriously?!?... But, I let it go.
She continues, "Now, measure around the breast at the fullest point ." She then proceeds to show me over all of her layers of flannel, where she measured... . " I need to add 2 inches" she says.
I look at the diagram, then up at her, confused. "That makes no sense. Besides, I don't see anything here that says add 2 inches."
She quickly replies "Well, I add 2 inches because of gravity! I have to push things up, and when I do it makes for a bigger cup."
Oh... My... God.
My sweet Mother has been purchasing bras that where 2 sizes to big... because of gravity. You can't make this stuff up.
"What are you crazy? A 38C!? That's insane!" I say this in the nicest possible way. "According to these measurements you measure for a 32A."
She looks at me startled, "Well I've always worn that size."
"No Mom, you have never worn that size..."
After another ten minutes of debate, she decides to go with the 34 B...
We are moving to a new and different place, me and my mom. Although it is hard at times, having my Mom live with me (or as I always say, I live with my Mom. The truth of the matter being, if you live in the same house with your mom, you live with her). Some days I think, it would be easier for us to go visit her, and have her tell stories of my childhood, of her life, of all the things she has done, instead of living it everyday with my children seeing the past, present and future... always.
But then again each day I am reminded that this is my future as well. And it's sometimes ("sometimes" being the key word) a good thing to learn the lesson "reaping what we sow" firsthand, instead of hoping to teach it to your children later. I often have to remind myself, when I am busy and not wanting to interrupt my work, of all the times that it was me who said "Mom can you help me figure this out," and she dropped everything.
I am sure over the years the conversations will get nuttier, the level of nonsense will increase, the lines that separate us will get fuzzier, mother daughter, daughter, mother and I will continue to remind myself as I remind my children everyday-As You Sow So Shall You Reap. (until I can't remember that line anymore)
We are both reaping and sowing everyday. Mom has a bra that will fit (maybe) and I learned about compensating for gravity... and your loved ones.
Even when they do very, very silly things.
