I was stretched out on the couch, watching television with my family, but my attention had wandered.
“Are bras electric?” Bethlet, my eleven-year-old, asked. Huh?
“Are bras electric?” She repeated the question, and this time I convinced myself I’d heard it right. I didn’t get it.
“There was a commercial for a bra,” Bethlet explained, “ and they said it was wireless. If it’s wireless, doesn’t it have to be electric?”
I had to think about this to figure it out, but when I was done laughing, I was left to ineptly explain the concept of underwire support. I struggled for the right image of the electric bra: a small battery concealed in a pocket next to the hooks, or perhaps a powerpack making the entire undergarment rechargable. There my imaginary electric bra sat, next to our laptops, cell phones, palm pilot, and blackberry, getting revved up for the day.
I keep thinking this anecdote must have some relevance to psychiatry, it just has to....