Romper Room

So my son's wedding is one week from Saturday. I am rather proud of the fact that I shopped for my dress and shoes and all of that stuff well ahead of time, with the exception of one very important category of mother-of-the-groom essentials.

The.....um....foundation garments.

Yes. This is an underwear post, so if you're squeamish, quit reading now. Don't say that I didn't warn you.

I wanted to be very choosy in my selection of undergarments for the wedding, since I have a lousy track record in wearing these types of items. You can review my unforgettable walking-out-of-my-black-half-slip incident here, of which I'll copy a sample for y'all:

Yes. I had publicly lost my undergarment in front of several of the priests of our diocese as well as other upstanding Catholic honorees and their families.

Shudder.

Yesterday, I realized that it was time to just bite the bullet and get going on this last and least favorite task before the wedding. Dang. I just couldn't put it off any longer.

Being the spiritually-oriented person that I am, I took a solemn moment in prayer as I began my underwear quest. It kind of went like this:


Please, God.......let me keep my underthings securely attached to my person at this wedding. Please? Isn't it enough that I already have to worry about getting so fatigued that I will say and do weirdo things? And will probably get hopelessly lost in the cathedral? And without a doubt will soak down my entire body and hairdo with perspiration after somebody has to retrieve me from one of the confessionals, which I probably will have mistaken for a very different place? And in all likelihood will forget the names of my brothers and sisters and their children? And the names of MY children? So that I can't introduce them to the new in-laws? Who's names I will certainly forget as well? DO I HAVE TO LOSE MY UNDERWEAR, TOO? Really, God? Really?? ......What's that, God? .....You think that I should actually be praying for this beautiful young couple and their life together and blah blah blah blah blah....::blink::....sorry. Wasn't paying attention there.........Well, duh, God.  Haven't you been listening to me every night since he slipped the ring on her finger? Although I suppose you're right. Sorry about the duh thing, God. 

Once my conversation with God had finished, I actually put my body into Goldie and off we went to find the perfect goof-proof undergarment.

I'll spare y'all the gruesome details; suffice to say that I had a hard time explaining to the saleslady in a certain pricey department store exactly what sort of undergarment I wanted.

I want to wear my own bra. I don't need a slip because my dress already has one SECURELY ATTACHED. But I want something to de-blob my torso and waistline. And it can't end right at the waist otherwise everything just pooches out right there. But I don't want those long-leg things....shudder. I tried getting into one of them once and I didn't think I'd ever escape. And...

"Oh!" the saleslady piped up. Perkily.

"You want a romper!"

Come again?

"A ROMPER!"

She perkily made her way over to a garment rack and snagged an item from which was hanging this tag, and waved it in front of my face. Perkily. Her perkiness wasn't decreasing my decidedly un-perky attitude.

Are you kidding me? If someone had told me that I needed a romper, this is NOT what I would have conjured up in my mind. And, no, I'm not sharing with y'all what I would have been thinking.

Has anyone else in the whole world seen an undergarment labeled as a ROMPER? Honestly. The thing is just a high waisted girdle with suspenders attached.

So I tried on the ROMPER. And I'm here to tell you: this girl won't be doing any ROMPING with this thing on. There's boning up the sides and torture-grade spandex covering every inch. I'll be lucky if I can breathe, never mind being able to romp. Or frolic, or frisk about, or anything else. However, it seems as though there is absolutely no chance that this ROMPER will fall off any part of my body, which is the most important thing of all. Breathing? Frisking about? Overrated. Having all of your clothing stay firmly attached in all of it's intended locations? Brilliant!

I just know it. This overpriced romper is the answer to all of my prayers. Right, God? Right? .....God?

I'll keep y'all posted. Maybe I should superglue my shoes on.