Since this blog is about becoming an American African, and since I'm running out of material, I thought it's time to broach a delicate subject: underwear shopping.
You might think that underwear is the same the world over, but I can tell you from experience that this is emphatically not true. For instance, my 7-year-old son needs new underwear. I went to the shops expecting to find underwear plastered with Harry Potter scenes, Ben 10 or whatever else young boys are into, but no. There are no characters to be found on boys underwear here. In fact, there is no boys underwear of any kind to be found here. What is called boys underwear looks like a Speedo.
Girls underwear, on the other hand, does not come in solid colours. Each pair is carefully plastered with pictures of Hannah Montana, fairies, or cute little monkeys. And no matter what the label says, the underwear goes halfway up to your armpits. Even the ones labeled "bikini".
You might be keen to admonish me at this point, "When in Rome, do as the Romans," but I don't think even the women in Rome wear underwear that covers their rib cage. And did I tell you I'm allergic to Speedos?
So now I'm faced with a real dilemma: do I go against ever fibre in my being and by my son speedo underwear, or do I hope his Buzz Lightyear underwear lasts another five years?