I was in the Macy's lingerie section, working as a salesgirl. There was a tall, red headed woman that had wandered in and was looking for a bra that would fit her "up there parts".
"We have a variety of wonderful brands," I said.
"Y'all have anything that will plump the ladies up? My john is a boob man and well, I'm sorely lacking."
"Your john? I didn't realize you were a working girl. We have some nice bustiers that would make any woman look chesty."
"John is my husband, you northern crazy lady. Let's see some of those busty thingies."
I showed her bustiers.
"I need something more modest. I'm not like one of you yankees. I have morals."
"Oh, a Republican? We have some nice chastity belts."
"Whore. You need to get on your knees and pray for salvation."
"I don't need to get on my knees, lady. I'm three foot tall. Men love me."
"I can tell." She eyed my belly. "There's a lot of love there."
"Listen Paula Deen, that's my baby who's due any moment."
"Paula Deen is a buttery racist. What kind of bra do you wear? Those boobies of yours can't be all natural."
"Ow. That hurts."
"What I just said?"
"Ohmyfuckinggod, the babies a-comin'."
I gave birth in the dressing room and that's how Mollie was born and Carolyn became an important part of my life.
Ignoring the face that Mollie was adopted, born in China, Carolyn doesn't wear bras and I was banned from Macy's lingerie department years ago.
My little girl is 15 years old today. She's a great kid and I'm crazy proud of her.
Happy Birthday Mollie.