Let's talk about my underwear. Because I'm sure you've been wondering, but hesitant to ask, so I'm going to break it down for you.
They're large. They're not attractive. They're less Victoria's Secret, and more Victoria's Grandma's Panties. And they're not made to be worn with anything but the mommiest of mom jeans - so when I do wear something with a lower rise than what I wore in 1989, there is the issue of visible panty top.
So there I am at the park yesterday with my friend Y-, sitting on the ground doling out a (completely healthy, non-processed food, organic) snack and I reach around to pull the back of my shirt down and I realize it's not necessary. No one can see skin because I have a minimum 5 inches of stripey panty sticking out of the top of my pants. Y- swears she didn't notice, but I know she's lying because it must have looked like I was wearing a cummerbund. You don't miss someone wearing a giant stripey cummerbund. It's like not noticing that someone has on a clown wig or a nipple on their face.
(Did you think it was cumberbund? I did. It's not.)
Today I was sporting a new pair of jeans that are a little on the low waisted side. I didn't want a repeat of yesterday, so I picked out a pair of "hipster" panties. To clarify, the moniker indicates where they sit on your body, not the coolness of the drawers. They are still granny panties. I'm chatting with the ladies at gymnastics class and I reach around to (again) adjust the shirt, and I have 2 inches of exposed crack. I have been mooning mommies and no one has said shit to me.
Then, because I'm afraid 1 or 2 people have seen my asscrack, I have to announce to everyone there that I'm hanging out, and then because that's not enough, I have to tell them about my enormous panties from the day before. Then because that's not enough, I have to come here and write a few paragraphs about it.
And because that's not enough, I'm going to tell you what happens when I don't wear underwear.
I was about 8 months pregnant with Katie and so hugely huge that I could not stand to have anything touch my belly. I started with maternity panties, then switched to mens briefs (cute), then just started going commando. One day I'm sitting in my office at work, and my poor feet and ankles are swelling like a bitch. I decide that I'll just put my feet up on my desk for a few minutes. So I'm sitting there in my little maternity dress, feet up on the desk and think "oh, I'll just lean back and relax a minute", and I promptly go ass over teakettle, fall out of the chair and hit my head on the bookcase behind me.
When there is a large (and believe me, it was large - I was really pushing maximum density at the time) crash from the office of a pregnant woman, every chivalrous male in the building is going to come running.
And find me, sprawled on the floor, dress hiked up around my waist, showing my goods to anyone who had the misfortune to come in.
When I told my parents this story, my father was completely mortified. But not so much that a bunch of my coworkers had viewed the vagine, but more that I wasn't wearing underwear to begin with. "What if you had been in a car accident and they had to take you the hospital and you weren't wearing any underwear?"
I don't know, Daddy. Do you think they'd rush me in and start cutting off my clothes and then see I didn't have any panties and be like "Ohhhhh. She doesn't have any underwear on. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do."?
I'm not wearing underwear right now. Let's hope I make it to morning without requiring emergency care.
2 hours ago