A Cautionary Tale

piccolor.com

I was at Victoria’s Secret getting my teenage daughters some bras and underwear.

(They were quite modest ones. Really.)

The twins were running around like crazy people, climbing under the display tables, jumping off pretty padded benches, and screaming “UNDIES!!” at the tops of their lungs.

I looked around at all the beautiful airbrushed photos of models, and the racks filled with lovely silky things, and the mannequins dressed n perfectly matched sets of underclothing.

Then I looked at the twins. One was in danger of pulling over a rack on top of himself. The other was shrieking, probably tattling on her brother in decibels too shrill to be understood by human ears.

I thought to myself:

This is where all that sexy underwear gets you, folks. WATCH OUT!

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