Wonder Woman Underoos and stifled dreams

I loved Wonder Woman when I was younger.

Once I outgrew Strawberry Shortcake and Barbie, I was fascinated with She-Ra and Wonder Woman. I wanted to be them, and between the two, Wonder Woman was my favorite. Not only did she kick rear and have an awesome outfit, she also had the invisible airplane and the lasso of truth, not to mention the indestructible bracelets.

I somehow managed to finagle a pair of Wonder Woman underoos from my favorite aunt and uncle (they were my favorite for many reasons, but Wonder Woman underoos would be high on that list), and I wore these constantly – the tiny little blue shorts with white stars and the red tank top with the double W’s in gold. Fantastic!

When my mother would manage to peel them off of me when I had to take a bath and she would throw them in the washer, I would be on the look out for when I would be able to rescue them from the dryer and put them on again.

My mother’s rule was that I could wear the Wonder Woman underoos UNDER my clothes when we went out in public, after all they were UNDERoos. And, modesty meant that I should not wear my underoos as an outfit when we went to the store.

But, my desire for the world to see my Wonder Woman persona became stronger as the summer went on, and one day, I rebelled.

We pulled up to the Hardware Store and my mother was preoccupied grabbing her shopping list and her purse as she got out of the car.

I knew this was my chance for the world to see me as Wonder Woman!

I slipped out of my shorts before I exited the car. Halfway there, world, hold on because here comes Wonder Woman!!! My little blue and white drawers shining in the summer sun.

My mother was busy waving at people as she walked in the doors of the store, and I slipped off my t-shirt and threw it in the backseat of the car. I carefully and quietly closed the car door – no slamming to draw attention to me as I now appeared as WONDER WOMAN in public! My red tank top emblazoned with the gold W’s. Here I was world – me as Wonder Woman!

I scurried in the door to the Hardware Store behind her, congratulating myself on my brilliance.

We walked down three aisles before we ran into anyone. Here was my moment, my shining glory – they were going to see me as Wonder Woman, my glorious underoos showing who I really was! All would be revealed as we stood next to the industrial plungers and Drain-o.

“Good morning. Help you find something?” the man asked.

That was it. That was all I got for my Wonder Woman escapade.

Until…

my mother looked back at me to make sure I was still there behind her.

She discovered my treachery – pajamas in public! Panties and a tank top, in public, IN THE HARDWARE STORE… Panties in the hardware store. Had I lost my mind? What made me think it was okay to show everybody my drawers while we were shopping for a new hammer? Had my brain fell out of my head somewhere between the car and the front door of the store? When we left the house that morning, my mother was sure I had a brain in my head, so did I lose it when we pulled into the parking lot?

The invisible airplane was parked my friends. The lasso of truth put away. My underoos were boxed for two weeks as I learned my lesson about not wearing pajamas in public. Our panties go on the inside of our clothes, never on the outside.

And, I never did wear my pajamas to the Hardware Store again, but for that one brief moment between the car and aisle three of the local hardware store, I was soaring high as Wonder Woman.

For a few brief moments, I was WONDER WOMAN

For a few brief moments, I was WONDER WOMAN

photo credit: JD Hancock via photopin cc
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About melindamcguirewrites

The young man or woman writing today has forgotten the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat. ------ William Faulkner, Nobel Prize Speech, Stockholm, 1950
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6 Responses to Wonder Woman Underoos and stifled dreams

  1. Lisa Olsen says:

    I had Wonder Woman underoos too! (Also R2D2 ones for some reason, cause what little girl doesn’t want to be a beepy robot?) Love, love, love that show and we started a Sunday breakfast tradition of watching the show with my girls, so now they do too. 🙂

  2. tvonzalez says:

    And it is only until after you hit 50 that you can wear your WW underroos out in public again – AND NO ONE WILL CARE!

    *grins*

  3. This is both hilarious and understandable. I loved it!

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