Should Not Be Allowed Out of the House in Real Clothes

I had a big job interview yesterday. I was pretty anxious about the clothing thing. My life for the last 18 years or so has consisted of a jeans and t-shirt uniform. I liked it that way. Even the church we attended for so many years was of the casual variety - come as you are. So I came, as.I.was.
The night before the interview, I pulled out what I thought might be workable and started trying things on. It was hopeless. I bought a new bra - I guess I thought my boobs should look more professional, but when I proceeded to try clothes on with my newly shaped parts, nothing fit correctly. I went to bed with my best choice being a pink top and some brown slacks. Pink? If you know me - you know how out of character it would be for me to wear pastel pink. Oi vay!
I woke up the next morning, the day of the interview and knew I could not wear the pink. I decided it might be the bra and with that quick change, I found that everything fit me much better. Black slacks, and olive green top with a black camisole underneath and I was good to go. I even had knee highs, and nice shoes. When I left for the interview I felt pretty confident, until I noticed I was getting a wedgie. At first I was thinking it was from the slippery dress pants that I'm not accustomed to wearing. As soon as I got to the office, I checked in with the receptionist and excused myself for a moment to the restroom to check my windblown hair, and the wedgie. I was mortified to find that I had left the big folding tag on the back of the new slacks. I ripped it off and stuck it in my purse, deep enough so that should I be asked to pull out my wallet for any reason - I would not also produce the tag. And as always after using the restroom, I pulled my underwear back up. The act of pulling them down and back up is usually resolves any wedgie issues.
Then the interview. More on that later - but at one point, sitting in a very nice office in an upright chair, I felt something pricking me in the back. Prick, prick! So I moved a little, and more pricks. I knew almost instantly that it was the tag, still inside my blouse. In my nervousness to get ready - I had failed to remove any tags whatsoever. I sat there answering questions, attempting to ignore the seeming sword that was trying to run me through from behind.
I rushed home once the interview concluded to change into my Walmart uniform and head off to the job that I already have. When my shift was over, I came home and went to the bathroom and found that I must've put my underwear on wrong. I noticed a seam where it should not have been. The reason for the wedgie? The crotch of my underpants had been on my left hip all day long, and I never noticed.
So, never be fooled by how put together I might be on the outside. I really should not be allowed out of the house in real clothes.

A Wedgie Video

Guys do not do the warm and fuzzy things that girls do out of love. They tend to like to hit one another, wrestle, and ...........yep, give wedgies. This video is of a documented wedgie - and I actually know these guys so I know that this is not put on - it is what they do.
Wedgey Of DOOM!


Evidently, they have always wanted to capture this on tape. The "wedgie giver" happens to have a reputation for this while he is also one of THE most polite, kind, considerate, funny guys I have ever known - note the polite "thank you" at the end. I am sharing this in the hopes that other mothers of teenage boys will know they are not alone! This is what they do when left home alone for hours to have "band practice" with mom's video camera on hand!
They seriously do have an actual band - here is a link to their myspace where you can hear songs like "Spiritual Underwear". ha ha - no kidding!
I love you guys!