Forgot My Panties

This week, I traveled into the Big City for a one-day meeting. I went into the Big City the day before the meeting, because the meeting started at 9:30, and it generally takes about 3 hours to drive to the Big City. No way am I getting out of bed at 5:30, leaving by 6:30, dealing with Big City traffic, sitting all goddamned day in a meeting, and driving home all in the same day. I could fly, but I took my own rig because I needed to do some shopping and I didn't want to deal with getting the playard on the plane.

I was unpacking in my hotel room, and ironing my pants and shirt for the next day. It was around this time that I realized that I forgot a clean pair of panties.

"Sweet Jesus," I thought. Well, I guess that's what I get for talking on the phone and packing at the same time. I'm learning in my pregnancy that I'm not really able to multi-task, which is frustrating on many different levels.

I heard my Jewish Mother say, “Amelia, I have always told you to make sure you pack one extra pair of panties. So, if you go somewhere for one night, you take two pairs of clean panties. And, if you go someplace for a week, you pack eight pairs, that way you always have one extra pair, because you never know what's going to happen. You always want to have on clean underware. And you didn’t, so you won't. Way to go, honey.”

I’m not sure where the idea of packing more than you need came from. Probably from my Jewish Mother’s Jewish Mother.

So, I punted.

I washed my black panties in the sink of the hotel room and hung them out to dry.

I had packed cream pants for the meeting the next day.

Fortunately, I had a long shirt to cover my expanding Baby Belly. So, one couldn’t see my black panties through my cream pants. I tried this before I washed my panties. Otherwise, I would’ve gone without underwear, which really isn’t an option because pregnant women have an increase in the amount of vaginal fluid they excrete. Not cool if you're free-balling, if you will.

When I got up in the morning, my panties weren’t quite dry. So, I blew them dry with the hairdryer that the hotel was kind enough to provide. I stood naked in the bathroom with the hairdryer on high and my panties blowing in the wind. I couldn't help but think of Bob Dylan. I had to laugh at the entire situation, because it really was pretty funny.

I dried them, finished getting ready, and went to my meeting.

In my head, I said to my Jewish Mother and my Jewish Mother's Jewish Mother, “See, I’m not too dumb.”