Losing My Pants

The disappearing belongings began at an early age. As early as kindergarten, when I sat down cross legged on the floor, ready to listen to Mrs. Boynton's story time. Like any four year-old child, in our household I made my mother do the laundry, fold my clothes, pick out my clothes, dress me and buy my underwear. However, this day, Marilyn was obviously slacking on her duties. In the middle of Mrs. Boynton's story, I noticed a large lump in my pant leg. I reached in to see what was hiding in there. I pulled my bugs bunny underwear halfway out of my pant leg and quickly stuffed them back into my tube sock. The story time floor plan is very confined so my classmates were sitting right next to me; there was no way I could get bugs bunny into my backpack inconspicuously. How could Marilyn do this to me?! After story time, I walked with a careful yet brisk step to the bathroom. I scrunched my underwear up as tight as possible in my hand and quickly returned to my cubbie where I stuffed them in my backpack, never to be seen in Mrs. Boynton's class again.

This day I lost a sliver of respect for Marilyn and my adolescent self.

The second event took place on the soccer field at Cavett Elementary. It was the fourth grade and for some reason I still hadn't lost the desire to have cartoon-designed underwear. Although my glasses were held together by scotch tape, I had red hair, freckles and one of the gangliest bodies in the fourth grade, I was still semi-cool. I knew how to be 'one of the boys' when I wasn't chasing them around the playground. There was one boy in my class who seemed to have matured into an eighth grade man in the fourth grade. He was tall, tan, and already fully manscaped in my fourth grade eyes. This particular day, we were playing flag football in P.E. I put on my red knitted jersey while the only 'mature man' in my class put on his green knit jersey. (I remember because it really brought out the asshole in his eyes). I stood on the field looking for where my red teammates were gathering so I could join them, when suddenly I felt my pants at the bottom of my ankles. Revealed to my entire class was my Mickey Mouse underwear and my abnormally red face. I was mortified. Maybe kids thought it was just balloons and they couldn't see all the figures of mickey mouse attached to the balloons. I laughed it off, disguising the fact that I was trying to find the culprit so I knew who to turn the entire fourth grade class against. I found him, laughing and sprinting to meet with his green team. It was the 'mature man' in the class. He was so cool, handsome, tall, and now #1 on my shit list.

This was the day I lost my pants.