Photo via What Pushes My Buttons. No really, this isn’t staged.
|In the vein of Public Service Announcements, it’s time for me to put my identity as an Award-Winning and Award-Seeking (ahem, did you vote for me today? Yesterday? Howzabout right now? Click here.) blogger to good use. When I began Pistols and Popcorn, my brother zoomed this text to me:|
I’m thinking he was giving me the snark. Shocking, I know, as he’s usually quite serious. But truthfully, there are many moms who are reading this. Also, there are many dads. Dads – this is written for you though you’re going to have to find your own way to communicate this information to your baby mama. It could be tricky. Moms: this is for all of you. Even the ones who think maybe it doesn’t apply.
Crack is whack.
More specifically, when I’m on the playground and you’re bending over, crouching down, sitting criss-cross-applesauce or any variation on these here themes, when you are not standing vertically, more often than not mothers, you are exposed. I don’t think you mean for it to happen. But it happens oh so very much.
In these times of a crashing economy (totally unrelated) and low-rise jeans (totally relevant) how does one escape showing their thong-th-thong-thong-thong to the entire Kindergarten? (Did anyone catch that “Thong Song” reference? If so, congratulations, you and I would totally have hung out in High School.) I’ve come up with a few ideas of my own, but I don’t think they’re the be-all end-all. My go-to answer is the long tanktop under t-shirts plan. The tank tucks into the pants and usually will not reveal the fact that I’m wearing Granny Panties. Um. I mean Agent Provocateur’s latest $200.00 pair of Luxury Knickers. Also, can’t you just do a quick touch test when sitting down? If skin plus even a mildly gaping waistband is combined, most likely any passer by is going to get an eyeful of the good stuff. That’s right the really really good stuff. Stop yer snickering.
I’m just saying. We’re not 17-years-old anymore and it isn’t that cute to have your bum hanging out (a surprisingly high number of mothers appear to be going sans undies – comfort first? Laundry day is every day? What’s up?) It’s particularly not that cute when Roan is around wide-eyed and giggly that he can see a bum. Really, that is the penultimate titillation for a child. The ultimate? Accidental farts, of course. But I digress.
Am I missing something? Anyone have input on his or her own technique for remaining cosseted while sitting down? Please – let’s open up this dialogue, for the children. The More You Know……(da-dun-de-dum).