Underpinnings

We're all adults here, right?  I want to talk about underwear.  If you can't handle it, feel free to move on.

When my grandchildren lived with me, I often found that the male grandchild had urine on the bottom of his shirt, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. Male briefs have a flap to use to release the dragon to urinate.  How would urine escape that??  I finally got brave enough to ask a male friend about that.  How can that happen?  His answer was that some men use the flap; some men pull the leg hole over to the side; and some men just pull the top of their pants down to piddle over the rim.  Bingo!  I guess if the latter method is used and the stream is started too soon (or finished too late) that the shirt gets splashed.  I get it!

And then I learned that some men wear t-shirts under their street shirts in order to keep their chest hairs from peeking through the fibers of the outer shirt.  Ahhhh...  I get that, too!

When I was a kid, my mother dressed me in Carter's "spanky pants".  That would be white cotton underwear.  I lived with white cotton underwear for years and years until I became a sexually active adult and progressed to nylon/satin undies.  They made the jeans slide up over the rump so easily, but they also made me sweat.  Oh well!  In my older years (now) I have reverted back to white cotton, just so I can bleach them when I wash.  Nylon/satin undies don't do well with bleach, and I need to bleach.  Thus, my britches don't slide up nicely over my panties anymore, but at least I know they are clean! Not very appealing to the opposite sex, but I'm not part of that scene anymore!

Turn your attention to brassieres.  Bras are intended to provide support for the breasts, but there are no two sets of breasts that are alike.  In recent years, bra companies have gone with formed cups--similar to what "padded bras" used to be.  They moved the strap adjustments from the front (where they could be reached), to the back (where they can't).  The last time I went bra shopping, I made sure I was getting what I needed...but...ugh...no longer true.  The straps slide down on my arms.  The cups gap at the top and gouge into my middle.  My bosoms just don't seem to like being strapped in, so when I am at home by myself, I am the quintessential old lady with no chest support at all!  (If you are surprised, you don't get it.)  I need to create a company called "Gravity Bras".  Laff now.

There is another aspect of old age underpinnings that I haven't discussed yet:  the need for something to sop up urine in "stress incontinence" situations.  I'm not there yet, but it's coming.  Everyone laughs about Depends commercials, but it's really not so funny.  One of my friends had his cancerous prostate removed, and now he is faced with being unable to shut off the stream.  Laugh if you will, but your turn will come!

Heh heh...when my grandchildren were very young, we had daily laughs about underwear.  Someone would say, "What is that under there?"  The kids would say, "Under where?"  We would all laugh.
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