Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Reason #103 Why Moms Shouldn't Wear Thongs

I'm a 40 + year old working mom of 5.
I'm no wimp.
I'm a robust woman (in size and mental strength)
and, warning:

TMI ...

I've got no business wearing thong underwear. 

Oh you skinny, young ladies in your leggings acting like those are pants.
I bet you've got your little, lacy undies on underneath feeling so feminine.
Aren't you lucky?

No really. You're so lucky.

Me? I've got teenagers.
Who drive.
So our far away, college daughter will be safe, hubs loaned her his car.
Now hubby uses my car
and brother gets to borrow sister's car.

Keeping up?

What's that got to do with underwear?

Today I got dressed for my day, giving great care in choosing the right outfit and undergarments, knowing it all must function through the morning routine, a full day of work, sitting on the bleachers, dinner duty and, because as I mentioned; I'm car-less, my short walk to work. Despite the pending demands on my day, ergo me, I was feeling bravely feminine and choose aforesaid underwear. 

And that's where I went wrong.

No sooner was I dressed for my day when a snot-nosed kid wandered downstairs coughing, sneezing and declaring she was too sick for school. With puppy dog eyes and a whimper she asked for orange juice and medication.

Of which we had neither in the house. 

Now moms you know, when our kids are sick, our hearts turn inside out, and we'll do anything, ANYTHING, to make them feel better.

And so I walk. Not the short walk to work, nay! I head off in the other direction and walk 4 blocks to the nearest pharmacy. Which, upon arrival I discovered is closed.
So I turn north and begin to trek to the next closest option. I'm late for work, am breaking out in a sweat, the storm clouds are gathering all while my underwear is lodging itself in my derriere. A chaffing of magnum proportion is happening and yet I press on. 

"Momma's coming, baby!"

And I think to myself, THIS is why moms don't bother. Oh we want to. We want cute, little, pretty unmentionables. They help us remember we are more than moms; we are women!
Soft, lovely, feminine beings who, despite siphoning off the best of ourselves everyday to the people we love, grasp and cling to a piece of who we are in the form of a sliver of lace.

My bloomers failed me today.

I sit here gently on the couch in desperate need of baby powder. Or Vaseline. Of course we're out so I'll be heading back out to the store to get some relief soon. However, I think I'll wait until husband gets home so I can drive.

In my granny panties.

P.s. Even the Huffington Post know what I'm talking about. So I must be right. Right? 

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