Over the years I’ve had a number of conversations about garments with my mom. These conversations have ranged from sincere questioning, to taunting, to disbelief and on and on… The conversation I’m about to share is the absolute ultimate, and I had thought that I’d hang on to it for a while, but it truly deserves the tag of Secret Underpants conversation NUMBER TWO and I just can’t help myself. (You will understand in a minute…)
I got married young. Even though I left the church right out of high school I still carried around a nice set of Mormon Baggage (I had, like, the Louis Vuitton of Mormon Baggage) with me everywhere I went and it found it’s way into everything I did and every relationship I had. I think I was incapable of saying “No” to anyone until I was about 27. I’m not even kidding. So when a very nice guy asked me to marry him I was all “Yeah! I’ll TOTALLY marry you! Thanks for asking!” He really was a great guy, don’t get me wrong, but I know now that I wasn’t ready to be married back then and I have a nifty divorce certificate to prove it.
My wedding day was fraught with stress. We had no money for a wedding and were basically just walking into the park and having a quick ceremony with immediate family only. I bought a David’s Bridal wedding dress, made my own bouquet and our reception was being held in my future sister in laws tiny apt. I HATED EVERYTHING ABOUT IT. However, I was incapable of standing up for myself, or even admitting that I DID want a real wedding (with guests and cake!) even if we needed to wait a while and save up for it. I was such a chickenshit, and oh, how I paid for my cowardice…
As I was racing against the clock to finish my hair and get into my gown my mom walked up to me and initiated the Secret Underpants Conversation Number Two. Here’s how it went down:
Mom: (indignant) “There’s no washer or dryer in here, I need to go to a laundromat”
Me: “WHAAAT!? Mom, the van is picking us up in five minutes! Why do you need a laundromat?”
WAIT FOR IT……….
Mom: “Because I accidentally pooped in my garments a little bit. I thought it was just gas, but it wasn’t.”
SILENCE. (But let’s all just take a moment here to say it together- WHAT THE FUCK?!)
Me: (choking, trying not to cry because I knew where this was going) “Can you just not wear them? We really don’t have time…”
Mom: ” No. I can’t go to your wedding without my garments. I won’t feel right.”
I knew right then and there that my already shitty wedding had just officially become shitty FOR REALS. In that moment I KNEW I shouldn’t be getting married. I felt like this rogue poop was a sign and if I’d had any backbone at all I would have called the whole thing off. But I didn’t have any backbone and I didn’t call it off and, well, I already told you about my neato divorce certificate..
But let’s talk for one more minute about my mom and her crappy garments. Knowing my mom would never leave without her garments (What if there was an accident? Or the second coming decided to happen in the middle of my wedding ceremony? How would the lord know she was Mormon with only her top half covered?) I quickly came to the conclusion that I had to figure out some way for us to get her back into her secret underpants- asap. And so a compromise was made. The offending garment was washed in the sink and taken to the basement where thankfully, there was a washer/dryer combo.
I was only 30 minutes late to my wedding! And folks, I didn’t even cry until the next day.