by Katie Cawood
There went my niece, wearing my bra over her t-shirt and prancing around the yard in front of my father, brother-in-law, and husband while we spoke about my new washing machine. “Look, I’m Aunt Katie!” she shouted, sticking her chest out far and feeling the lace with her little fingers. Embarrassed, I spoke as animatedly as a person can about an appliance, in hopes of distracting them. But in the end it was the five-year-old who won their attention. “Look at me, I've got big boobs!” That was the last time I hung a bra on a doorknob to dry.
Katie Cawood works with preschoolers, answering the question "Why?" for eight hours straight. She is writing her first novel.