I talk often about how years of child rearing has left me with pretty much no standards. Another example of this became apparent to me last week when I was in Target to gather a few things. I decided that I needed some new under garments. I walked over to the underwear section and was bombarded with things like this:
I walked past them all. I mean, I don't need any bows. I don't need a lace butterfly on my underwear or "come and get it" written on my rear end. I am too old and too worn down for all that. In my younger days, that used to be everyday under garments. Now those are special occasion under garments. Another thing is my kid's ages. I am very careful about what comes into my house because I would never want my kids to find skanky underwear or lingerie in my drawers. Everyone I know has been traumatized at one point in their lives by something they found in their parent's bedroom when they were kids and I'd like to avoid that.
Anyway, I walked straight to the wall where they have the packages of underwear. My first thought was, "Which one of these has a full seat?" Full seat, that is important to moms. I saw packages with this sticker:
What? Wedgie free underwear? What wizard manufactures these panties? I had to have them. Moms can not be having wedgies. That is unacceptable. I decided to get the ones with the strings on the side so that I would feel better about myself. But really, who am I f-ing kidding? They are cotton, full seat, wedgie free underwear - the strings on the side aren't doing anything for anyone. Maybe I think my husband will think I'm trying to put in a little bit of effort. "Well, if she got the string sides maybe that means she hasn't ACTUALLY given up on life...."
I carried this package around the store with me, past other customers and it didn't even phase me. Yeah, I'm buying mom underwear. I'm not afraid to tell the world I have no standards. It was just sad. A sad, sad purchase. But the wedgie free part - that's happiness.
No comments:
Post a Comment