This is the season to celebrate your favorite things. Well, I found out today that I have a new UNFAVORITE thing.
My teenager told me she needs new underwear for Christmas. Thongs, she requested. You know, those tiny, torturous, sling-shot-things that now pass as underwear. I am quite convinced they were invented by a man because they are very sexy, yes, but so darn uncomfortable. You may as well walk around with a piece of toilet paper stuck in your rear, because that's how it feels. I don't think God meant for anything to go in that cavernous space, so for me, thongs are downright unnatural.
But . . . just about every young girl wears them. So, the aim-to-please-Santa that I am, I went thong-shopping today for my teenager at PINK, the sister store to Victoria's Secret aimed at the 16- to 25-year-old set. And I discovered that the only thing worse than shopping for bras and panties for myself, is shopping for these unmentionables for my teenage daughter.
It took me 45 minutes to pick out five pairs of thongs that kinda-sorta passed the mom test, ones that didn't send the message that I would like to see my daughter wearing these on a stripper pole real soon. I bought one with a cupcake on it, and one that resembled the one in the picture above. Still sort of "sweet," without being skanky.
It's a fine line between mothering and pimping to buy your daughter's thongs. Believe me, this is one outfit I don't expect her to model for me on Christmas morning.