I’m told that bras can be painful and constricting.

That makes sense to me. A loose-fitting, soft cotton, worn, oversized t-shirt with no bra underneath must feel great.

So why does it bother me so when it’s my daughter doing it?

Now to be clear, this happens at home where, as my girls say, they don’t have to worry about what people think (the rationale they also use when table manners are forgotten).

But I just don’t like it – even at home.

Maybe my DNA has been programmed to protect the female members of my tribe from marauding invaders and I believe deep inside my primal being that this type of dress (or undress) is just going to encourage the Huns when they arrive.

Or maybe my square upbringing has brain washed me to believe that free thinking hippies, and not my daughters, dress this way.

Or maybe is it just that I don’t like being reminded that my babies are now women.

Ever seen a father cry at a wedding? I’ll be that guy.