An Argument in Favor of Granny Panties

 

No those are not my legs or my underwear. I was just looking for a little visual support. But thanks for thinking my stomach is that flat.

After having my suitcase stolen on the honeymoon, I had to go on a bit of a shopping spree to replace everything I'd lost. This included about a dozen pairs of underwear. Of course I stocked up on some cute ones before the trip, so I was happy to discover many of the same styles and patterns still available at Macy's. 

In attempt to replace a comfy, silky boy-short-esque style I was missing, I accidentally bought some big lady briefs. They don't come all the way to my belly button, but they're definitely far more substantial than other pairs I own. 

Mr. Wonderful is not a fan.

When he came home from being in London for 8 1/2 weeks (or was it years...?) Friday, he was none too pleased to give me a little up-the-sundress-bottom-pat and discover I was wearing my big mama underpants. 

"Just because we're married doesn't mean you can start wearing underwear like that now," he scolded me. 

I told him they were comfortable and a good idea to wear under short sundresses. 

About an hour later, we were heading out for a romantic welcome-home dinner. 

I noticed that our green trash bin was still in the street, so I rolled it up the driveway and maneuvered it onto the ledge where we store it. (See below)

As I was hopping back down off the wall, something bad happened. I'm not exactly sure what even transpired, but my foot didn't quite work and my ankle twisted and the next thing I knew, I was lying in the driveway in my sundress with my feet pointing up the slope.

I didn't want to move at first because I wasn't sure if I had hurt anything—Mr. W and I are running our first half marathon together in late October and I can't afford to have any broken appendages. So I sort of sat there inspecting my bleeding foot and tweaked ankle until Mr. W dashed to my aid.

At the same time, I heard the male next-door neighbor shout, "Are you okay?!"

Enter: Humor, my best defense in embarrassing situations—"Oh yes, I'm fine! Mr. W's only been home an hour and already he's sweeping me off my feet!"

As I sat with ballet flats pointed skyward and my sundress hiked to my thighs, I looked at Mr. W and said, "Good thing I'm wearing my granny panties. He could've had quite the show otherwise."

Mr. W nodded... And I rest my case.