I can only hope that my kids don’t read this little story because if one of them does, she is going to want to die.
For the past few weeks my knickers have been up to hanky panky. One day they were so friendly and comfy that I didn’t give them a second thought. The next day however, they were so tight I’m sure they were trying to kill me by cutting off my circulation in all manner of places.
In a panic, thinking that I was gaining weight in my sleep I upped my exercise regime ten fold. Still my knickers continued to play their nasty game with me. Sometimes they were so mean they left deep grooves embedded in my flesh and barely covered my butt crack. It was a bit chilly at times and I feared for my kidneys.
This went on and on, day after day until it eventually dawned on me that I had been, in fact, wearing Pippa’s knickers. The tag read the same as on my knickers but it neglected to include the words “Kids Only”.
I cannot tell you how relieved I am and how much I look forward to a peaceful night sleep without having to do a thousand butt clenches throughout the night.
For now though, I’m off to buy more mature knickers. Ones without butterflies and lady bugs.