I figure since Angelina Jolie just put it all out there with her brave discussion and decisions surrounding her double mastectomy, the least I could do is approach the subject of cutlets. You know what a cutlet is, right? It’s a little bra insert they make so that women who look like they haven’t hit puberty yet can at least look like they are 13 years old?
The discussion of cutlets is also timely since I had a graphic/decision tree go up over at NickMom last week called “How Often Do You Need To Wash Your Bra REALLY?”.
Hold the phone.
I just saw that the graphic has been shared over 2,000 times on Facebook. Nothing of mine has been shared that many times on Facebook. We care about dirty-ish bras up in here.
Back to the cutlets…
No, break. Hold that phone again. When I shared that NickMom graphic on my Facebook page, the discussion of bras came up. Some girls said they only had two bras and some girls only had ONE, including a friend of mine. ONE BRA. She says it’s a nice, expensive bra, but there is only ONE of them. On top of that, it’s BLACK. She has one black bra. (I am going to buy her another one soon.)
Okay, officially back to the cutlets. So, anyway, sometimes I’ll wear them. I’ll wear them if my shirt needs a little poofing up. I’ll wear them if I think that the movie worker lady will say, “Sorry, people 12 and under can’t go into this movie.” I’ll wear them if I want to pretend to be an adult. The art of providing a little padding to the upper region is nothing new over here, either. Before there were cutlets, there was my cousin and me in fifth grade making our shirts look like Daisy Duke’s and then stuffing tons of socks at the top. We were Daisy-Dolly Duke-Partons walking around.
But, it’s high time I put them up. It’s time to kiss the cutlets goodbye. I’m not a good manager of the cutlets. You see, once I was over at Insane In The Mom Brain’s house and thought I lost one. I searched high and low for the cutlet. “Heeeeeeeeeeeere, cutletcutletcutlet. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere, cutletcutletcutlet.” It never popped up. It never said, “YOU FOUND ME! HAHAHAHA!!! THAT DIDN’T TAKE LONG! YOU ARE GOOD AT HIDE-AND-GO-SEEK!” Nope, that didn’t happen. I frantically looked under Patti’s chairs. I looked behind Patti’s Justin Bieber. I looked behind Patti’s baby zombies. It was like Kelleyana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Cutlet over there.
I should have kept my search on the down low, but I let it out that I had a missing culet and the next thing you know, Patti mentions it in her blog to her gigagagamillion followers.
Dang it, Patti.
It was my own fault, though. It was actually my wake-up call to get my cutlets under control.
Wouldn’t you know that he would pop his head back up just a few days later at my own house? I never even lost it! Pretty sure I went to Patti’s all lopsided.
Anyway, once the cutlets were reunited, I kept them tucked away in a little drawer for a while. I don’t often feel the need to bust them out, but I felt the urge to get them out again when we went on vacation a few weeks ago. You just never know when you’ll need the cutlets when on a raging sea, you know? How can one actually pack for a cruise and leave the cutlets at home? Cutlets love relaxation as much as the next guy!
I also needed them to go with my pirate outfit.
But, guess who wouldn’t stay put?
You got it!
So, that’s it.
The cutlets can’t be trusted.
The cutlets have seen their day.
The cutlets are GONERS.
The cutlets WILL NEVER GO ON ANOTHER CRUISE.
It was nice knowing them while I did. They were great help at times and, sure, I’m sad to see them go, but…what choice do I have? They have left me no choice. They photobombed our picture with Chip ‘n Dale and I have ZERO TOLERANCE for cutlet photobombers!
(Do you think I was too harsh with them?)