There's a Man Here Who Wants Your Bras
Last night, I sent Andrew on a thankless errand, an errand of the type that might make any man question the wisdom of having gotten married, or having gotten married to a particular woman: I arranged for him to pick up two secondhand nursing bras I purchased from someone on my neighborhood parenting listserv. Andrew is, it has to be said, adamantly against my purchasing used nursing bras, and I completely understand this. It is a strange thing to buy used, I admit. But when really good nursing bras cost $40-50 or more, and when my size in the first week post-birth might be radically different from my size a week later (or even just days later), it just seems logical to me to have a couple of larger-size options that I can wear a few times then set aside. Anyway, I purchased two secondhand, high-quality, large-size nursing bras that I will put in my hospital bag in case I have a repeat experience this time around of being horrifyingly, nightmarishly, grotesquely engorged. Fingers are crossed that I wasted my $10.
Anyway, the woman I bought them from lives nearby, but too far for me to walk, so earlier in the day I told her my husband would be over in the evening; we agreed on 8:30. Andrew drove over and, at the appointed time, buzzed the woman's apartment. Her husband answered. "Hello," Andrew said. "I'm Andrew. I'm here to pick up something for my wife."
The man said, "Oh. Really? What are you here to pick up?"
"Well, I'm here to pick up some nursing bras," Andrew said.
There was a long, awkward pause. Then the man said, "I haven't heard anything about this." Andrew explained that this meeting had been arranged between me and the man's wife. The man invited Andrew in and said he would call his wife.
Andrew waited uncomfortably while the man made the call. "Honey," the man said, "there's a man in our apartment and he's looking for your bras. [pause] Ah. When were you planning on telling me that?" He hung up and walked into another room to find the bras. When he came back, he held out the bras and said, "Well, this is one of the weirdest things that's ever happened to me."
"This is very strange," Andrew agreed.
The man put the bras in a bag, Andrew gave him the money, and the errand was complete. "You have a really nice apartment," Andrew said. And then he came home with the bras and this truly classic husband story.
Anyway, the woman I bought them from lives nearby, but too far for me to walk, so earlier in the day I told her my husband would be over in the evening; we agreed on 8:30. Andrew drove over and, at the appointed time, buzzed the woman's apartment. Her husband answered. "Hello," Andrew said. "I'm Andrew. I'm here to pick up something for my wife."
The man said, "Oh. Really? What are you here to pick up?"
"Well, I'm here to pick up some nursing bras," Andrew said.
There was a long, awkward pause. Then the man said, "I haven't heard anything about this." Andrew explained that this meeting had been arranged between me and the man's wife. The man invited Andrew in and said he would call his wife.
Andrew waited uncomfortably while the man made the call. "Honey," the man said, "there's a man in our apartment and he's looking for your bras. [pause] Ah. When were you planning on telling me that?" He hung up and walked into another room to find the bras. When he came back, he held out the bras and said, "Well, this is one of the weirdest things that's ever happened to me."
"This is very strange," Andrew agreed.
The man put the bras in a bag, Andrew gave him the money, and the errand was complete. "You have a really nice apartment," Andrew said. And then he came home with the bras and this truly classic husband story.
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