Lots of things make me cranky. Mostly the usual stuff. And the odd thing that, well, perhaps don’t make so many others get all cantankerous and such like I can get. One of those for me is thongs. Yep, I’m talking underwear. No nicey nicey slicey of apple pie kinda post from me today. Except for the gratitude bit in it because you can throw gratitude into just about any post I think.
And for today, I am extremely grateful that thongs make me cranky.
Why do thongs make me cranky? Enough reasons that I could probably use to start up a granny panties wearers anonymous group. Hmm … maybe I will. Step 1: “We admitted we were powerless over the movements of our bottoms – that our underwear drawer had become unmanageable.”
Why am I grateful thongs drive me crazy? I’ll show you first and explain after …
… and in words …
My girls and I were out shopping today and at some point my jeans ripped. I think what happened was I leaned up against one of those large metal crate thingys stores use to hold lots of a smaller item in, and one of the corners snagged my jeans enough to start the tear. And I know at one point I crouched down almost to the floor to get something off of a bottom shelf so my guess is that’s when the snag turned into a full on rip-roaring splitting of my pants [yes, pun intended]. What I don’t know is how long I strolled around stores that way, without anyone telling me until my girls noticed as we were on our way to the car.
So that, dear readers, is why I am ever so grateful that part of my midlife crisis of not wanting to feel so old resulted in a shopping spree for sexy undergarments a couple years back and that I hated wearing almost all of them. Definitely despised wearing the thongs.
I went back to the good ole, practical, comfy, and inexpensive granny panties I buy at Walmart, as pictured above for your viewing displeasure. It’s a good thing I had on one of the basic kind today, and not the wrong-day-of-the-week ones I used to wear. Just in case you’re wondering, the pair I had on today were a neutral colour, so no, you’re not seeing my bare butt. You’re seeing my granny panties. And that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Tonight before I retire for the evening, I think I shall dance like John Candy in the video below in celebration of and appreciation for the person who invented granny panties. It will go a little like this, according to how the world’s greatest rock super group ever says it should be:
You put your hand on your head,
You put your foot in the air,
Then hop around the room,
In your underwear.
Featured image: HappyHeadTees shop on etsy.com