Susan GrahamPanty Crisis 2009
January 7th 2009 13:04
I perform a miracle every single weekday morning. The miracle is getting my 6-year-old daughter Princess on the bus by 7 a.m. I would like to say this miracle is always free from crying and/or kicking and/or throwing of garments, but I can’t go that far. Suffice it to say that somehow, by the grace of God, I get her on that bus. How we get there is not always pretty.
This morning, for instance, we had a major Panty Calamity. As I have mentioned in previous posts, Princess is extremely picky about her clothing. If a seam doesn’t feel just right, an article of clothing could be banished forever. Panties are particularly troublesome because you have the elastic around both the waist and the legs as well as the cotton part, which tends to bunch and sag. At this moment there are no less than 10 pairs of underwear in Princess’ drawer that do nothing but confuse her father into thinking she has enough panties to get through the week. There is only a small group of about five “acceptable” panties that Princess will wear at any given time. And that group is usually hanging out in the hamper, leaving Princess virtually panty-less.
Last night, Hubby tried diligently to prevent Panty Crisis 2009 by washing a load of panties before bed. Unfortunately, they did not completely finish drying. So when I took a pair of panties out of the dryer for Princess to wear to school today, she immediately noticed they were damp.
“They’re just cold,” I tried to tell her. “They were out in the garage all night.”
Nothing doing. You can’t fool that girl. So I did what any Supermom would do in this situation: I threw every piece of laundry onto the garage floor, tossed three pairs of panties in the dryer by themselves, turned the dryer on High, and prayed that the bus wouldn’t show up in the next five minutes.
In the meantime, I handed a very naked Princess her hairbrush and told her to go ahead and brush her hair and get the rest of herself ready while her panties were drying. No dice. She refused to move a muscle without her panties.
Thus Panty Crisis 2009 began. Princess stood quietly in her room, naked and pouting. I stood in the garage, beating the dryer with my fists, yelling and cursing for it to dry faster.
Somehow in my motherly glory, I performed yet another miracle, pulled the warm-but-not-quite-dry panties out, and got the girl into her clothes and out the door.
In a matter of about five minutes, Panty Crisis 2009 was over, and Princess got on the bus smiling and waving back at me. Does she even know the wonders I am capable of? Does she appreciate the lengths I go to avoid a complete meltdown (by both she and I) in the morning? Maybe not now, but just wait until she has a Princess of her own. Maybe then will I get a, “Thanks, Mom.”
This morning, for instance, we had a major Panty Calamity. As I have mentioned in previous posts, Princess is extremely picky about her clothing. If a seam doesn’t feel just right, an article of clothing could be banished forever. Panties are particularly troublesome because you have the elastic around both the waist and the legs as well as the cotton part, which tends to bunch and sag. At this moment there are no less than 10 pairs of underwear in Princess’ drawer that do nothing but confuse her father into thinking she has enough panties to get through the week. There is only a small group of about five “acceptable” panties that Princess will wear at any given time. And that group is usually hanging out in the hamper, leaving Princess virtually panty-less.
Last night, Hubby tried diligently to prevent Panty Crisis 2009 by washing a load of panties before bed. Unfortunately, they did not completely finish drying. So when I took a pair of panties out of the dryer for Princess to wear to school today, she immediately noticed they were damp.
“They’re just cold,” I tried to tell her. “They were out in the garage all night.”
Nothing doing. You can’t fool that girl. So I did what any Supermom would do in this situation: I threw every piece of laundry onto the garage floor, tossed three pairs of panties in the dryer by themselves, turned the dryer on High, and prayed that the bus wouldn’t show up in the next five minutes.
In the meantime, I handed a very naked Princess her hairbrush and told her to go ahead and brush her hair and get the rest of herself ready while her panties were drying. No dice. She refused to move a muscle without her panties.
Thus Panty Crisis 2009 began. Princess stood quietly in her room, naked and pouting. I stood in the garage, beating the dryer with my fists, yelling and cursing for it to dry faster.
Somehow in my motherly glory, I performed yet another miracle, pulled the warm-but-not-quite-dry panties out, and got the girl into her clothes and out the door.
In a matter of about five minutes, Panty Crisis 2009 was over, and Princess got on the bus smiling and waving back at me. Does she even know the wonders I am capable of? Does she appreciate the lengths I go to avoid a complete meltdown (by both she and I) in the morning? Maybe not now, but just wait until she has a Princess of her own. Maybe then will I get a, “Thanks, Mom.”
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