Thursday, July 28, 2005

Don't bring me down

Tonight was Open Mat night at the dojo again. When Sam and I left, we had to run to Wal*Mart for a wax ring and a new toilet seat. (4 days off and I am SO making that man work around here!) And a mouth guard because these boys have decided that Sam's sparred enough now that they don't have to take it easy on him anymore and twice tonight he got punched in the head. I have too much invested in his teeth already.

Well, this afternoon was simply insane what with having six kids here all afternoon, plus a husband, plus working on the playhouse, getting Addison's kitten ready to go to its new home and then Chandler had a tick behind his ear and Abby sliced her finger open while trying to climb a tree . . . it was just one thing after another.

I had been working outside all day and had just braided my hair back this morning. Y'all know I have a wee bit of a crush on Sensei so any time I'm going to be in his presence - even though he's a happily married hottie and I'm a most of the time happily married redneck - I try to look nice. There was no way I was going to karate tonight smelling like ass. Sweaty ass at that. So I threw some popcorn chicken and apple slices at the kids, gave Mr. Diva strict instructions to not leave them unattended and I ran back to grab a quick shower.

In my haste I grabbed one of the two pairs of panties I own that are a smidge smaller than the rest. Oh, they're the same size as the others, but for some reason they just don't fit quite as well.

Now, any woman who has ever worn too-small panties knows what too-small panties are capable of. They are capable of evil, evil things.

Okay, now back to the story: Sam and I headed into Wal*Mart to grab just those few items. It was going to be a fairly quick trip and then we were headed home. Ach, but I remembered once I got in the store that I had left my library book (Thanks, Sloane!) at the dojo (Oops, Sloane, forget you just read that.) so I called Sensei and he said he'd found it and had already put it in his office and that I could pick it up tonight if I wanted. Oh I wanted. It's the new Harry Potter. I told him I'd be over in a few, hung up and then quicked my pace through the store.

We were about halfway to the health and beauty aids when my panties just gave up the ghost. I felt them start to kind of edge their way down one side. I kind of did a little wiggle and tried to inconspiculously work them back into place. It was a no go. But I wasn't worried. The other side was holding strong. Until we actually reached HBA and then the other side let go. So now I was standing in front of the tampons because they're in the corner and fairly deserted, with my panties riding somewhere around the top of my ass crack. And rolled at that. Oh no, they couldn't have just scooched down leaving possibly a small wrinkle or two . . . they rolled. Leaving what I could envision as a telltale bump around my ass.

I cooly reached back to kind of feel the back of my jeans, trying to decide if the line was noticeable or not. Well, to me it felt like a huge speed bump on the back on my jeans, so after a quick look around to make sure no one was close, I tried to pull them back up into place through my jeans. Just kind of work them back up like I smoothed out the wrinkles in the pool last weekend. It sort of worked. Worked enough that I felt like the speed bump was less noticeable.

I then high-tailed it back to sporting goods to grab Sam a mouthpiece. Somewhere around the lightbulbs, they all but fell to my ankles. The only thing holding those panties actually inside my jeans was the crotch of my jeans. They weren't just riding rolled up around the top of my ass crack now - they were below my buns. And of course, now that the whole entire panty was involved, the roll was GINORMOUS.

What I wanted to do more than anything was just reach down my drawers and pull them back into place, but I know how Wal*Mart Loss Prevention works. I know that they have someone back there watching you as you shop. Just as sure as I'd shove my hands down the back of my jeans to grab my traitorous under garments, the voyeur in the back would hone in on me and alert the secret shopper that there was a Code 42 or something in sporting goods. And then I could just imagine them taking me into some interrogation room hidden deep in the bowels of the store and telling me that they saw me stick my hands down my pants and then they would ask me to produce what was down there.

And all I'd be able to show them would be my rolled up panties riding right below my ass.

I considered a run to the bathroom to hoist them back into position, but I had Sam with me and he would've laughed. Seriously. That would've cracked the kid up so badly that he'd have wet his pants. I was already embarrassed without my easily amused son getting in on the fun.

So I did what any other person in my position would do: I pulled my tshirt down lower in the back and got the hell out as quick as I could.

Once I got into the van, I was going to kind of lift my butt off the seat enough to pull them back up, but it seems the parking lot at Wal*Mart was THE place to be tonight, so I decided to wait till there wasn't an audience. I drove on to Sensei's place sitting on my rolled up drawers, wishing I'd never even bought those stupid hot pink gingham panties that were oh so cute at the time. I swore they were going straight to the rag basket the minute I got home.

Well, when I got to Sensei's I got out, thinking I could just pull 'em up real quick as soon as I got out of the van, but no, his front door was open and his kids were right there. So I found his wife in the dojo, got my book and prayed she didn't walk out behind me. She did. But thankfully it was fairly dark. I made it safely to the van without seeing Sensei and then having to live forever wondering if he'd noticed the roll riding just under my buttcheeks.

The second my van got onto a dark street I jerked those panties up and hooked them into my belt loops. Hell yes, it was incredibly uncomfortable, but the way I figure it, they're good and stretched out now and shouldn't give me trouble again.


Anonymous said...

I used to have a pair of underwear that was cut a little higher than what I usually wear. I thought they made my but look like it had four cheeks instead of two. I think everyone can relate to an uncomfortable underwear story!

The Small Town Starlit

Penny said...

Panties - you can't live with em and you can't live without em. Loved the story.

Redneck Diva said...

HillbillyMom-Used to my husband would come out to see why I was laughing hysterically at the computer. Now he just ignores me. When I've tried to explain to him why things are so funny, he just doesn't get it. I find rolled underwear stories hilarious myself. Him, not so much. In fact, he was mortified I even wrote about my underwear in the first place.

I donated a pair of underwear to the little league baseball field once. Sometimes you just reach your limit.

Courtney-Ooh I've had some like that, too! You feel violated, don't you? :D

Penny-Some days going commando is awfully inviting . . . but what keeps me wearing the panties is the thought of being in a carwreck and them having to cut off my jeans and then my cooter would be exposed to the entire universe and even if I were dead and mangled, I think I'd be mortified. Of course, them cutting off my jeans to find rolled up underwear around my thighs would be pretty bad, too . . . Thanks for stopping by!

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