Catastrophic Underwear Affair

So this was something I didn't expect, but pregnancy makes your ass and hips grow, which also means, your underwear gets smaller. I tried to convince myself that all my old underwear just miraculously shrunk, but, I think it's more likely that ye olde arse is getting bigger.


So what to do. I don't want to go all jumbo granny panty and lose what little sex appeal I have left, but having a perma-wedgie is hardly an option either. So obviously something had to be done. So where does one go for sexy, but better fitting underwear? WalMart.


This was a mistake of epic proportions. 


I can easily be dazzled by cute patterns and bright colours, so add that to my need to get in and out of WalMart as quickly as humanly possible, and a poor decision was inevitable. Something about WalMart, with it's rows of cheap plastic goods, low priced jumbo everything and crowds of bargain hunters who have forgotten that in fact, they are not the only person on earth, and I just get itchy. My throat closes up, and even though I know I'm saving $0.03 on that box of 5000 Q-Tips, I most times can't be bothered to put myself through it. But on this particular day, husband also needed underpants and undershirts, and those are best bought at some sort of  "Mart". 


So there I stood, row upon row of underpants designed for suburban housewives who haven't seen the inside of a Victoria Secret ever in life, confused. Bikini, low cut, boy cut, hipster...all the normal words I associate with panties, not the normal look. Never have I bought a pack of 12 pairs of underwear, without the actual ability to look at them or touch them. I mean, these are going to be jammed up against my delicate lady parts, shouldn't I be able to assess the feel of the material? Apparently not. 


So I pick 2 sets, up one size from my norm - 1 in hipster and 1 in bikini, in the cutest patters available, and off I go. 


Home, I'm eager to unwedge my cute silky, but too small, panties from my ass crack I tear into the bags and promptly throw the lot into the washer (they may have been in plastic, but they did still come from WalMart) and wait. And there I have it, 2 dozen pairs of underpants that will hopefully not spend most of their time residing in my butt crack.


Sigh. But when I put them on the next day, I realize I've made a horrible mistake. Well, not with the hipsters, they are actually ok, sit low, cover my bum, look cute enough and don't feel like sandpaper. I wish I could say the same for the bikini option. 


I don't know what part of "bikini" Fruit of the Loom failed to understand, but what I got was hardly something akin to a bikini brief. The tops came up my back and front, covering half of both my belly button and my tattoo. Now, I don't own ANY pants that come within 2 inches of my belly button so why the HELL would I want underwear that did that? Wide at the bottom, these underpants surely won't give me the dreaded wedgie, because how could they, they are wrapped around my thighs? What a mess. 


So I cried. I cried for a moment, realizing that I was in fact a pregnant lady, and I did in fact need to consider larger, less sexy underpants And then I realized, no matter how pregnant I get, I never ever need to don underwear that my grandmother wouldn't be caught dead in. So I packed the lot into the back of my underwear drawer, (hiding them from the others as I don't want them to get fearful of what they might become), and accepted that they were a waste of a hard earned $8.99. And there they will stay, until after the baby is born and  I need cheap ugly underpants to ruin in the hospital. That, or until was have a natural disaster and the Red Cross needs something to fashion a giant tent out of.