Subtitle = A precautionary tale of a non-scale ... victory?
Everyone needs a go-to friend for discussing their unmentionables. Me, I have Sister Wife Rose. This is mostly because not only does she have extremely passionate thoughts on the subject, she also has an Expert Opinion as a cheer leading coach. (i.e. underpants are a big deal to those who move a lot in teensy little skirts.)
Since I'm entering a new phase in my fitness journey (*snort* - for Kari) I have a fresh dilemma. Namely, what does one wear while squatting? After a solid twenty minute discussion with Rose about panty lines and other things of vital importance where Major Life Decisions were made, our conversation ended something like this:
|Me and Rose being photo bombed by Brian.|
Rose: What woman in her 30's (who, let's be honest, could totally pass for her 20's - editor's note) wears Cookie Monster underpants?
Kelly: I think the answer is why *wouldn't* a woman in her 30's wear Cookie Monster underpants?
Rose: *the Rose look* (if you know Rose you totally know this look)(it communicates "you are a dumb@ss" really well)
It was with that conversation fresh in my mind that I took the kiddos to the park yesterday afternoon. The FUN Park (which changes routinely depending on the whims of my children) was only a quarter mile away and was a perfect afternoon destination. Traveling with a three year old slightly affected the overall pace of our walk (haha, that's a joke because I'm pretty sure there were snails that beat us there), but we made it and it was gorgeous out and there were a ton of families and other kids to play with and life was grand.
It was on our return trip home that I finally had the answer to the question that up until then I only knew to be rhetorical. The question, "Why *wouldn't* you wear Cookie Monster underpants?" Ready? This is why.
Sometimes, when you are trying to hurry a three year old across a busy road before the signal changes, and you pick him up in one hand, and hold his three thousand sticks and pinecones and Special Rocks collected from your quarter mile walk in the other hand, you will quickly discover that you have no hands left to pull up your pants that are now seriously sliding down your hips in celebration of your recent weight loss.
You can't throw down the child, and if you are a mom worth your merit at all, you know you can't drop ALLTHESPECIALTHINGS collected because it will ruin your child's life
Safe on the other side of the road you will gently set down your child, and calmly pull up your pants like you were totally okay with flashing the world because you are secure in your choice of underpants. You should get an Oscar. (Like, the award.) (Not Oscar the Grouch underpants.) (Though I can understand the confusion this post could cause.)
And that is why, just maybe, you *wouldn't* wear Cookie Monster underpants.