Wired Writer

I'm Sorry I Got Hit By A Bus, Mom. I Wasn't Wearing My Bra.

Much to my dismay, my daughter is showing the slightest first signs of, well, not being a little girl anymore. We've recently added to her underwear drawer those special 'trainer' garments.

Each time I wash them, I surf a wave of guilt. "It's too soon!" I lament to myself. "Damn you for not buying the organic milk and meat without the bovine growth hormone."

As I fold them and put them on her laundry pile, my mind drifts through possible scenarios of how to delay her rate of, umm, maturation. Four hours of gymnastics each day? Getting her Girl Scout badge in the Iron Man Triathalon? Installing a treadmill in front of the Game Cube? Or is it just me and my imaginary "look how much the world has changed since I was your age" memory?

WARNING: Old Codger Flash Back: Back in my day, it wasn't until the sixth or seventh grade that girls started looking more developed. Even then, those sizes were still at the beginning of the alphabet; lots of A's and maybe one or two B's, but nothing more. The more progressive letter sizes -- C's and the occasional but highly sought after D's -- seemed to happen in college.

All parenting guilt aside, my daughter is elated. "I'm finally starting to grow up!" she proudly exclaimed.

I look at her. Inside my head, I'm seeing images of a 34-D cup on a twelve year old and me in 'Da Big House' serving twenty-two consecutive life sentences for breaking the necks of boys and men who dared to look at her bovine-like cleavage while we went grocery shopping. I hear a loudspeaker voice saying "Carnage clean up in aisle 12, please. Next to the organic dairy case."

But instead I nod my head, resigned, and say, "Uh huh. Seems like it."

Yesterday, she walked to the front door and announced, "I'm going over to J.'s house to play."

I peeked around the hallway corner. "Okay, but be careful crossing the street."

She rolled her eyes at me and said, "Oh Mom, don't worry. I'm mature now, remember?" She turned and pointed to her chest. "I know how to cross the street because I've got these!"

posted by A.M.Adams @ 9/16/2005 07:55:00 AM