The #AtoZChallenge is about posting an entry every weekday in April, using a letter of the alphabet each day to write about something.
April 25’s entry is U… and the only thing I could think of:
Can you actually say that your mom never cautioned you to always wear nice, clean underwear just in case you had an accident and/or had to visit an emergency ward?
In all these years I considered it to be a horrible notion that silently called, almost wished for, a disaster to happen. Nevertheless, when my daughter was old enough to change her own undies, “use clean underwear” was her first life lesson! Of course, I was in charge of supplying pretty ones.
I must confess that my family is always amused at my undies. They are nice, big, comfortable bloomer like objects that, if needed, could easily be used as spinnakers in a regatta.
Just like the gradual evolution from Ethiopia’s Lucy hominid to modern humans, my undies slowly, almost unobtrusively, migrated from Victoria Secret lace and tulle concoctions to comfy cotton drawers.
They have, though, always been clean!
As you can imagine, all my visits to the doctor’s office have been planned, with a careful choice of undies planned weeks ahead, along with the initial appointment.
A few weeks ago I had a nasty fall in a destroyed sidewalk. We were just entering a delightful tea house with Sabrina, my daughter, and her aunt and cousin. On the way in I tripped on a loose tile and fell to the floor, hitting my knee fiercely. I stubbornly decided a little fall would not ruin the outing. Yet, as the minutes passed, the pain increased, as well as the swelling on my knee, so I finally had to ask my daughter to drive me to the Hospital.
The moments waiting for the doctor, and then the xray, were spent worrying over my undies, regretting that I HAD NOT listened to my mother’s admonitions! I did not consider the possibility of a knee implant, or on having to use a walking stick for the rest of my life. I dreaded the moment that the doctor would confirm I was not wearing my best lingerie.
Although the medical observation was very thorough, I must admit that it did not include deciphering the size, color or decoration of my drawers. Luckily it also ruled out any permanent knee damage.
Nonetheless, I’ve decided to visit a vintage shop to pick up some frilly lace or eyelet in an effort to beautify my foundation garments.
Have any of you had a close encounter of the 3rd Kind involving your knickers, bloomers, or thongs? I’d love to read about it!
I had a late start with the #AtoZChallenge, but these are the entries to my challenge so far:
My April 21, 2017 post was R: About Resolutions and the Road to Heaven.
My April 22, 2017 post was S: Where I wrote about Sabrina and the split second when my life changed.
In my April 24, 2017 post I used T: Tulips, Tiramisu and Traditions.
I thank the use of the cute underwear photo to Pixabay.
“They are nice, big, comfortable bloomer like objects that, if needed, could easily be used as spinnakers in a regatta.” Tooo funny. I think I remember when this idiotic change occurred. On a shopping excursion to the mall many moons ago you bought a 3 pack of cotton underwear. You thought they were bikinis but in reality they were the BMFs and we laughed when you took them out of the package. Unfortunately you refused to throw them away, since you refuse waste of any sort, and the ridiculous three pack changed your outlook on undies FOREVER. There unfortunately was no turning back!!!
hahaha… it’s true!!! I had forgotten about my first pair!!! 🙂