Paramedic’s Wives Probably Have The Best Grannies

A special note to my sons, you may want to skip this one guys….

One of the things my mother always told me before I left the house, was to make sure I wore clean underwear, in case I got in to an accident. And by our teens, most of us knew, courtesy of ABC Afterschool Specials, if we got into an accident, the last ‘clean’ thing on our body would be our underwear.

So yesterday a little voice inside my head reminded me of my mother’s advice, as I hiked my granny panties up toward my ribcage for the 100th time, during lunch with my friend Jan.

Okay, so the voice in my head wasn’t so much telling me my underwear needed to be clean, because it was; the voice sounded like Sir Mix-A-Lot and it said Girlfriend if you got into a car accident today, the Paramedics would be like “OMG Becky, look at those granny panties! THEY ARE SO HUGE! AND SO WHITE!” And it would be a Bridget Jones Diary style moment, except with paramedics; because I’m middle-aged and married, so the only stranger that’ll see my panties will be saving my life.

I explained to Jan why I was fidgeting with my maxi-dress, and how the crotch in my underwear stretched out after I wore them for awhile, so I had to keep hiking them higher, and higher. And I explained how at that point, the band of my grannies was at my ribcage.

In retrospect, I probably should have just pinned my grannies to my bra, like I did with the maternity underwear, when the elastic was shot. Or gone commando.

TMI side note: I only wear granny panties with dresses. I can’t wear my thongs with dresses, or my fake-OCD will kick-in and make me feel twisty.

So Jan and I had a good laugh, because her son is a paramedic; and then she pointed out our favorite lingerie store was having a huge sale. And after lunch, I bought the exact same granny panty, THREE sizes smaller. Whoa.

Now I’m ready for the paramedics. Uhmm, just not Jan’s son.


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