I see London, I see abject humiliation…

“We had a little mishap this morning,” my sitter told me.

What kind of mishap?

“Well, the stroller wasn’t working,” she said, “and I looked down to see what was happening and it was the wheel. Something was in the wheel. And so we bent down to try and fix it and I realized all tangled up on the wheel was…well…

Yes?

“It was your underwear.”

That’s not embarrassing.

“Yes, it was a big mess. and it was all around the wheel and I had to pull and pull and it was so tangled, all wrapped up on the brake and around the wheel, and Thalia tried to help me and we both pulled and then, finally, I had to just cut it off.”

Excellent!

“And right then, the super came out of the building to see if he could help. And so I quickly blocked the wheel and said, ‘nothing here! I’m okay!’ because I didn’t want him to see…”

My underwear.

“Right. But he saw it.”

Well, was it…a nice pair?

“They were lacy. Yes. Pretty nice. I think it was a thong.”

{56 Comments}

56 thoughts on “I see London, I see abject humiliation…”

  1. Two things to be thankful for. 1) it wasn't YOU pushing the stroller at that particular time. 2) they were nice panties. I don't think I HAVE any nice ones, at the moment. Of course, you're now down one pair of nice underwear. :-( Hilarious, though!

  2. Aw man! That earns you a double dose of wine tonight for sure!

    Your babysitter sounds nice, though, so you've got that going for you :-)

  3. HA! I have to say, I don't think my thongs (or really any undergarment that was not on my person at the time) have ever been anywhere near my stroller. Makes me think of that post you wrote awhile back about having suburban envy. Perhaps that apartment of yours IS a little cramped….

  4. And did you put the requisite quarter in the therapy jar? I mean, there's always a chance it won't be remembered; then again, it's easy to imagine, from the future analyst's couch, “So see, there was this one time I was with my babysitter…”

  5. At least you weren't present for the humiliation. At my birthday party earlier this summer (at which about ten of my friends and their husbands, plus our male teenage babysitter were present), one of my friends attempted to pick up my two-year-old son. And when she did, she felt something soft and silky around his waist. She lifted up his shirt and found… a pair of my underwear! And not even clean ones – used ones from the day before that he'd taken out of my hamper and put on himself so he could “Be like Mommy”. That was fun. And not at all embarrassing.

  6. I am laughing out loud and dying of embarrassment for you…and because it is causing me to relive an episode I had forgotten until just.this.moment.

    When I was 22, my husband and I lived in this old house broken up into 3 apartments, 2 of which were occupied by super cute, stylish, gay men. We shared a laundry room.

    One day I came home from work to find my bright orange Victoria Secret COTTON BRIEFS (yeah, pretty much Granny Panties that I wore during certain times of the month) HANGING ON THE DOORKNOB OF MY APARTMENT!!!! yes, one of the cute boys had found them in the drier, and being the only girl in the house, I could not deny that they were mine.

    Needless to say, my housemates had expected better choice in undergarments from me. Good lord, I had blocked that incident from my mind.

  7. And this Liz, is why I refuse to wear underwear unless absolutely necessary.

    Not that my panties have been caught up in a stroller wheel.

    But they may have fallen out in front of some very important businessmen when I reached into my jacket for a tissue and a wad of lace fell to the ground. Turns out somebodies child *my damn husband's* grabbed my skivvies alongside a hankerchief and didn't realize it.

    Nor did I until my cheeks were as pink as the lace of my lady ginch.

    Gah.

  8. You know, is sounds like your underwear has it all over my 5-year-old completely stretched out maternity panties. Totally.

    I clearly need to buy some new underwear in case this happens to me.

  9. I was imagining some things about those underwear, yes I was (knowing none were likely true, based on any number of humiliating moments in my life, a couple probably involving underwear, tampons falling out of purses, etc., you name it.)

    Good looking out, babysitter. :)

  10. Tacy once insisted on wearing a pair of my underwear over her diaper but under her pants to day care. I considered letting her caregiver just discover it, but decided it would be less humiliating to just 'fess up in advance.

    It was a thong too.

  11. Your life is so much more interesting than mine! Although, a couple of weeks ago, a pair of my “lacy” undies ended up in Mr. PunditMom's workout shorts. He was on the treadmill at the gym at the time. :(

  12. Just when you think you're at the point when alone, on a New York City street, you could be mistaken for a childless, single woman, your panties get caught on the stroller wheel. And back to reality you're flung. It's like snot on professional attire, baby. The scarlet M.

  13. I keep my stroller in the car/garage and my underwear in my closet (or in my pants). Just curious, where do you keep your underwear and stroller? And how would it get that tangled up that it would need to be cut? I think a visual is in order.

    I'm actually kind of surprised that my husband hasn't thought to do this with my granny panties now that I seem to wear them most days…

  14. Well, at least it was a nice pair of underwear, and you weren't actually there in the flesh to suffer the first-hand humiliation. Always look on the bright side of life…

  15. Karen, I'm in a small 2-bedroom Brooklyn apartment. No garage. I guess my stroller and my underwear are stored much closer together than yours.

  16. I feel your pain. Recently I accidentally flung an old pair at a department store sales clerk while returning a broken fan. They got into the fan box when my laundry tipped over in the van.

    Did I mention I live in a small town. It'll probably make the local paper.

    Good times.

  17. After a long day of santizing the house (and myself) from kid #2 having the stomach bug and not wanting kid #1 to get it…priceless humor.

    Thank you again Liz.

  18. I can take this one humiliating step further. I'm standing with the dog in front of our apartment and the dog, ahem, “eliminates” a pair of my gnawed up knickers in front of our doorman and neighbors.

    Worse part, it wasn't even our dog. We were dog sitting, or as my husband now calls it, dogshitting.

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