“I suppose you could get a flat bra instead,” she suggested.
“What’s a flat-bra?” I knowingly asked.
“It’s a special bra for petticoated boys like you.”
“I’m not a boy Auntie… I’m twenty-six.” I retorted.
“But you are petticoated.” she reminded me. “And if you take that tone with me again, you’ll be going to work tomorrow wearing one of your nappies instead of your knickers.”
I hung my head and apologized. Aunt Katinka told me that at my age, I really should be wearing a bra anyway. “We should have got you a few flat-bras when you bought your knickers but I just didn’t think,” she said. “Sometimes I forget how grown-up you are these days.” she smiled.