I wore two pair of underpants in kindergarten with disastrous results. Nine years later, the underwear count was balanced out with equally bad results.
1964 – Me, Susan, David
No, this pincurled head can NOT possibly be mine! I can’t deny the skinny legs belong to me.
Susan excitedly joined David and me at our bus stop, equivalent to one or two city blocks away.
Shortly into the start of our new school year, the bus carried us along our hour-long route. We were the lucky passengers picked to get on first and ride the longest. On the return trip, we were among the last to get off. It wasn’t fair then and it isn’t fair now.
House on left, bus stop at cross-roads.
During the following bus incident it’s important to remember that girls wore dresses and skirts to school, no slacks allowed.
“Hey Mary, did you teach your little sister how to dress?” asked Eddie and Gary together.
I looked up from my book. Susan was several seats ahead, climbing over the seat in front of her. Her hind-end faced us, hanging out from her dress.
I wore two pair of underpants in kindergarten. Susan wore none. Can you say, “Peek-a-boo“?
She claims no recollection of her accidental nakedness. It is my duty to keep reminding her.
Lesson learned: Two is slightly better than none, and stay seated while your bus is moving.
Related posts: Chapter One: Kindergarten Nightmare; Chapter Two: Accidental Nakedness; Chapter Three: Naked Again
Now it’s your turn: Do you have an underpants story?
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1950 Memories of Suburban Adventures 
Congratulations Skinnywhatever. Never before have I read of underpants, let alone two, make such amusing reading, except perhaps, for Susan.
Thanks, Xerxeska. I never heard if my youngest sister, Paula (15 1/2 yrs younger) had an underpants story. If so, she was very careful not to share it with me.
Clever Paula. She must have known that if she shared anything with you, all WordPress would know.
You should have leant Susan one of yours!
No could do, S.S., Mrs. Bronx never gave my spare pair back. And they weren’t in a desirable condition, anyway.
As ever lovely musings – I could read these all day. I do have an underpants story yet the vulgarity that it would be served up with would tarnish your fine post – so basically I won’t!
Thanks, Mike. I, too, have stories not fit for print.
I must have missed the spare pair of underwear story!
Elle, ‘Kindergarten Nightmare’ in Chapter Two is my underpants saga. It seems to run in our family.
Does that mean that everybody in your family either wears two underpants or none at all?
Xerxeska, it does sound that way, doesn’t it. We’ve managed to level out to one pair at a time as we got older.
Does Susan still get kidded about it? It is extremely funny. I can just imagine her reaching over the seat.
Glynis, no she doesn’t. She still claims no recollection of the event. And then, of course, there are so many worse stories to tell about me.
In college there was a great bar in Chicago that had mannequins suspended from the ceiling all wearing random and varied underpants. Never thought a thing about it until the manager approached our party of 10 females and offered us three free keg parties and some free shots if we would donate a pair of pants to the cause. The 10 of us crowded in to the bathroom and somehow (what?) I was chosen to be the donee! I just so happened to be rather thin like you and was in a pair of undies that I’d been wearing since easily age 10 — big green flowers, very retro. They weren’t in terrible shape, don’t make ’em like they used to — so I marched out of the bathroom and told the manager my “friend” had taken one for the team now hand over the free parties. We had SOME fun with those vouchers, remember it like it was yesterday (well, what I CAN remember that is!) Why am I admitting this online? I’ll never be able to run for office now!
Meg. A bar like this
Would be a hit
in far Bombay
Xerxeska, time to start one!
Meg, as long as your undies had flowers on them, public office is still an option. I went to college at St. Norbert and had lots of friends from the windy city. Absolutely loved that city.
Mary, your hair is very reminiscent of the “doo”s I have sported in search of young pre-teen beauty! Oh the indignities of home-perms in the early days…! I remember sitting on the floor between my mother legs as she administered that stinky stuff to my head and responding to my complaints of hair-pulling by saying, “What price beauty…?” LOLOLOL
Anon, I wouldn’t have minded the pincurls in my already bushy hair if the result was beauty. If only afros were in at that time I could have fluffed my hair and been okay.
Luckily for us there were plenty of other girls with the same bad hair.
You are 15 years older than Paula, and I am 15 years older than my sister…! I adored that baby!!
Anon, it’s quite an age difference, isn’t it? I used to rock her and sing.
:-))) Were you embarrassed or gleeful at that moment? – I only have a sock story: both my boys, when still in the sitting-in-the-stroller-phase but not wearing proper shoes yet, loved having naked feet. So when I went shopping or for a walk with them in the stroller, they used to take off their socks and threw them away when I was not looking. And then they happily pushed their chubby naked feet in the air and wriggled their toes at me.
Choosing, I was mortified. I felt like it was a reflection on me. But now I think it’s a funny story.
There are little clips that keep children’s mittens attached to their coats. Those would have worked for the socks, too. I don’t know why, but young children seem to love having bare feet.
Hi Mary 😀 I hope you are wearing two clean ones today as you might get run over by two buses that arrived at the same time 😉 Hugs. Ralph xox 😀
Ralph, you are too funny!
Hahaha! Mary! Makes me very happy indeed that I am NOT your sibling 🙂
Oh, Suresh, I was a mostly fun big sister to Susan and Paula. David might have another story to tell.
Methinks that you want to be immortalised like Marylyn Monroe in her iconic skirt blowing scene.
Xerxeska, my sister, Susan could have been Marilyn Monroe. She was blessed with all the endowment that I was not.
Physically? Perhaps. Underwear appraiser? No way.
Ha Ha Ha! You are a riot. And so are all the comments. 😀
Now, Spunky, I was merely a spectator, sitting quietly in my bus seat. This is one of the few incidents that can’t be blamed on me.
And I agree that I get wonderful comments. many of them from you!