The other day I went shopping Bubbey style. I was in and out of the Old Navy store in record time. I was looking for a sweater, spotted a simple v-neck in one of my favorite colors (eggplant), and within minutes I was out the door.
Of course, the next morning when I put it on, the waist area seemed oddly paunchy. I figured someone must have tried to squeeze into her wrong size. I popped it in the dryer to give it a shrink and then off I went.
Well, I received my statement today: it read Women’s Maternity. Yup. I picked up a frickin’ sweater for a pregnant woman. I of all people. I who proudly waves the “Barren Womb Forever” banner. I selected maternity wear. Ugh. Well there’s no question that shit’s going back. In my defense though, I did get the right size. I just happened to miss the very difficult to read italicized gold embroider on the label. Oh well. You win some, you lose some.