Big Boy Undies: Army Brat

 

 

Believe me when I say these camo boxer briefs are the best thing to ever happen to me. I don't typically promote stuff, but Let’s be honest, sons can be brats; mean, cruel, cocky, the list is endless. They get a little taste of power and start thinking they’re on top. No one was as bad as my son, the kid was a terror from the day he could walk and when he learned to talk. Game over. 

He’d terrorize the neighbors, I'm talking ball through their windows, stealing their pets and calling them strays for us to adopt, pulling up flowers in gardens to give to neighborhood girls. I didn’t have the money for military school.

That’s where the Army Brat Camo Undies came in. An entire education of military schooling packed into briefs. Structure. Discipline. Training. It was all promised there. Now perhaps any other man, but me would have ignored it. The ad sounded insane, even now, but I was desperate. I bought them right away.I stayed by my door waiting. The moment they came I tore open the package just to make sure they were real. Once in my hands, I rubbed it between my fingers. Regular cotton. I stretched them. More elastic than normal but nothing special. Yes, I even sniffed them. Factory default clean. Military dog tags fell out onto the floor.

The instructions were easy enough to follow: leave the underwear and tags out in his room when he wakes up. Apparently most boys just had an affinity to military things, maybe it was the earthy color,or the uniforms. Either easy his curiosity would lead him to put them on. He came out of his room wearing only those objects as if it were no big deal, not realizing he was already walking straighter. At breakfast I’d ask him to do something as a test and it’d just get done. No witty remarks, no sass. He’d scoot up from the table, taller each time, and complete the task. I didn’t even realize when he started calling me sir. Felt good. Right. The muscles poured in when I asked for help in the backyard. He was a machine, lifting fallen branches, mowing the lawn. His feet were the first thing to stop growing and I stuffed those beast into some old boots of mine. Fit like a charm. The rest of him kept sprouting as the day went on abs popping into form as his body moved. The dog tags jingled against his chest, until his pecs rose and left no room for it.

Then it was time for the real test. I took him for a walk dressed exactly the way he was. Training had molded his body. Fat had fallen off his face and left only the sharpest of angles for his jaw. His face was broader. Sturdy. A stronger resemblance to me coming through. He didn’t express any shame or humiliation, just fell into line. People around us didn't ask about the hunk trailing behind me. The neighborhood, the corner store, the park, completely obedient. I kept waiting for something in the park to snap him out of it. Nope my good little soldier. 

So for all the parents who need to get their boys into shape, Army Brat Camo Undies are for you!