I’m going to start this post off by saying I am absolutely one of those people that LOATHES the word, *whispers* “paaaaanties”. I’m literally shuddering as I type this. That’s not the point of this post, however. Let me give you a little visual aid before we get to the actual p-p-p-pp talk. I’ve been running around my home like a crazy mom for three days straight now. Why? I’m baking a three tier wedding cake this week! Picture this:
My hubby goes off to work & I am literally kicking back a toddler with one foot, while opening the hot oven door with one hand & balancing cakes on the other. NO BIG DILL. When I have an event, what does that mean for my almost three year old? It means he runs around like a loose orangutan flinging metaphorical shit everywhere, ALL DAMN DAY. To be clear, he’s not ACTUALLY one of those kids that smears poop on the walls. I’m sorry if you have one of those kids :( ……………………awkward.
So for three days I keep my shit flinging toddler in the confines of the few walls of our condo; NO YARD. While I am trying to get in the zone & decorate a stunning wedding cake, he is loudly insisting & giving me choices. 1) I must accompany him to the park 2) I must accompany him to the mall for a walk 3) A walk anywhere 4) A trip to the store 5) Lastly, a trip to Grandma’s house. Basically anywhere that isn’t our tiny condo. I get it kid, I really do. I’d like to go to a bar by myself at 1 in the afternoon but we can’t all get what we want, OK?! On day three of no makeup, greasy hair, yoga pants, buttercream ridden clothes; I decide FUCK IT! Yes, I will take you to the damn park to burn that energy so he naps hard like an animal at the zoo on a scorching hot day. Good plan, yea?
I pack his shit up & gun it to the nearest park. I don’t think twice about how disheveled I look, what I’m wearing, or how I smell. By this point I just gave in to my persistent toddler—he won, hardcore. It’s 3:30PM & the park is riiiight across the street from a high school. This means that there is 1,000 high school students who have invaded the park because this is their after school hang out. I made sure to park very FAR away from the playground so that my toddler would have to RUN his ass off to get to the prized area of the park. As we are walking & passing teenager after teenager, I start to get extremely self-conscious. I was so caught up on just getting my fussy screaming toddler to the park that I literally did not think twice about the state of my appearance. Guys! This is where the granny panties come in. When I bake I MUST be comfortable, I just have to. I was wearing yoga pants (that somehow still gave me a muffin top?!), a stained black shirt, rocking zits like a teenager in puberty, &... GRANNY PANTIES *covers face*.
This might not seem bad… but my yoga pants were so fucking tight that you could actually see the underwear outline of my HUGE old lady granny panties. I’m just going to interject by saying that I typically only wear these at night—no one likes picking underwear out of their ass when they toss & turn in the night, amiright?! Well guys, I had forgotten that I was wearing them. I know the style is to wear long shirts… well this one wasn’t. SO my granny line was showing clear as motherfucking day. As I passed 14 & 15 year olds I grew ridiculously embarrassed. Hold on, why the FUCK do I care in the first place?!?! I don’t know guys, but I DID. I probably looked like a damn teenager myself; I’m 5’0 short with zits & no makeup. I am an over thinker & self-hater & it just got to me! I felt like every damn teenager I passed was laughing at me. In reality: no one noticed or gave two shits. I can honestly say that I have prided myself on always changing out of the granny panties before I enter the public’s eye… not this time *shakes head*.
WE LEFT THE PARK… Mom fail on all accounts.
So f*in funny! Every time I’ve seen you it was a beautiful sight. You’ve ruined that vision forever!
HAHAHA!!!! Awwwwww damn!! Let's just go back to the old way you used to see me then 8) WIPE THIS FROM YOUR MEMORY BRUCE ;)