In Which our Heroine Goes Shopping

Some of you may have heard that I have a son. Specifically, a nine-year-old son; one about to undertake his first season of Little League. We've gotten the cleats and scored some new baseballs to go with his well-oiled baseball glove. We've secured some impressive looking batting gloves; gloves that will clearly make him an amazing hitter.

We're waiting until his age hits the double digits before we start the steroids.

All that remained was the acquisition of an athletic supporter. And here, it must be noted, my skill-set is sadly lacking. I know how to buy sports bras of course, but, ahem.....not the same thing.

So it was that I found myself on a rainy night staring at this impressive display:
And thinking to myself: WTF?

So many choices; so little knowledge. I guess I could have asked one of the college-age boys working at Modells for help, but, honestly, they disappeared as soon as I hit the athletic supporter aisle. I pictured them ducking down in the backroom, fervently praying that I didn't seek them out to ask any questions. I am a careful consumer and reviewed all the options for protecting the family jewels before I made my final selection.

Given all that hangs in the balance, let's hope I didn't screw it up.