I grew up with the fear of God in me. The spoken wisdom: Always leave the house with clean underwear. If you have an accident at least you will have clean underpants.
Wearing underpants began out of fear. Venturing outdoors past the gate meant underpants first. Exploring in trees in parks, hanging upside down on jungle gyms and looking for bugs: underpants first, safety second.
Underpants were exchanged daily. They were dropped onto the unclean laundry pile in the wash-house and they were hung on the line outside and brought indoors, folded and returned to the tallboy drawers, ready for another important mission.
From cotton practical basics to so-called attractive uncomfortable micro sized underpants, these were worn throughout my life. Yes, those ones which seem to serve no purpose, the ones which do not cover the back side2w, were tried in the past. The ones that were itchy and rode up the backseat throughout the entire journey. What is the point of them? Seriously. Today I am back in the realm of cotton comfortable underpants again.
Some days I go commando, some days I bother to change my underpants. Some days I don’t. I have even tried turning them inside out, just because I wondered what it would feel like. Not very different. I have even worn them damp because they hadn’t dried properly from washing them in the sink the night before while on holiday. I wouldn’t recommend that by the way. I have 0—-==] peed myself laughing and had to change them twice in one day. Haven’t laughed like that in a while. Today I don’t put on my underpants with the fear of God in me. I put them on when I feel like it. I choose to wear natural fabrics. I choose comfort. I choose whether to put them on and when to change them.
Thank you underpants. I know where you are when I need you.
Today I am sober as a pair of comfortable freshly laundered underpants.
This post is a collaboration with my cat. The letter ‘w,’ ‘0—-==]’ and ‘-==’ was brought to you by my cat.