Kathleen McCall:
Occasional�� Muse�

2004-08-11 - 10:32 a.m.

The Thong Is Gone, But The Malady Lingers

After one day of hauling kids and my mother around in the car for five or six hours, I am more exhausted than I was at the end of any ten or eleven-hour workday last week. Maybe it was all catching up with me. Maybe it's just harder to see to family needs than it is to greet and direct crowds of strangers.

When you work an information booth, people come up and ask questions. Maybe they're not the smartest questions, and maybe you've answered them two hundred times already; it's still easier. They don't want something that conflicts with what the people behind them want, and they don't sulk when they have to compromise, and they don't tell you your ass is getting fat, either. All of which family can, and in my case will, do.

And no one at the information booth wanted thong underwear.

Older Daughter has been wanting thong underwear. For years, really. I told her a long time ago she could have some in high school, not for any particular reason other than I didn't want to discuss it at the time and high school seemed safely far in the future. Well, guess who is starting high school in a few weeks? And guess who doesn't forget that sort of offhand remark, ever ever ever?

So I took her to get her thong underwear. I don't know why I don't really like the idea. I own a few pair myself; but then I also own birth control pills and car keys and other accoutrements of adulthood that I'm not ready to see her with. I don't suppose thing underwear scream, "slut!" - especally since no one will really be seeing them, and if someone IS seeing them and I don't know about it, then the underwear is not the worst of my concerns. Besides, she brought me a couple of those Italian charm bracelets that she was tired of the other day, and one said "LUCKY" and one said "STAR", and I suggested she rearrange the charms so she could be "SUCKY" or "SLUT." She kind of liked the idea of being having an Italian charm bracelet that said "SLUT", and trotted off laughing, and all I could think was please God, don't tell your father. So I am not such a good influence myself, and can't reasonably get prissy over her underpants.

In my own defense, I also quickly came up with "TACKY" and "STUCK" and a slew of other possibilites, which impressed her. It was the first time I'd gotten to use that old party game skill of making a million words out of other words, and I didn't even get a prize.

I don't think Older Daughter would really wear a "SLUT" bracelet, although she did buy three pairs of thong underwear, so perhaps I should tell her she can have a SLUT bracelet in college and hope she'll forget about it by then. She did point out that she bought the underwear with a gift certificate that my boyfriend had given her for Christmas, so it was almost like my boyfriend bought her thong underwear, but I think she only said it to bug me, and all I could think - again - was please God, don't tell your father that either..

But at least I won't have to FIND her underwear - she can keep track of even the little scrappy type. I won't have to argue with her about whether they're on frontwards or backwards, like I did with my mother. "They're fine, Ma! I gave them to you the right way!" "Well they are not, they FEEL funny." "You take those off one more time and I'm going to wrap them around your neck. We're late! Come ON!" I should buy her thongs - she'll be able to tell if THOSE are on the wrong way, you betcha. Serve her right for the gratuitous comments about the size of my ass.

But back to information booths. And being tired. I think that's where I started. That working is easier. You can make people line up and state their needs one at a time. And you don't have to worry about what's going to happen to them next week, or next year. You don't have to approve their jewelry. Or their undergarments. And if they comment on your butt, you get to call Security.

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