I shared this on Facebook and people seemed to enjoy it, so I’m sharing it here too!
I was spending the day at Disney with my boo when I noticed a small string, about a half-inch long, sticking out above the waist of my pants. I decided to pull on the string to get rid of it.
and I pulled…and I pulled and proceeded to pull about 4 yards of string out of my pants.
I felt a breeze of unwanted freedom below and snapped the string with a key to stop the madness. I had a ball of fuzzy string pilled forever high in my hand and scurried to find somewhere to throw it away.
I became afraid to use the public restroom because I feared my underwear were either gone entirely, or just laying down there like a fig leaf. I didn’t want to shift any tables in the jean-time-continuum ’cause I just can’t walk around naked in jean shorts. 100% cotton, maybe- but I’m definitely not doing any high kicks in either of those scenarios.
Eventually I did have to crack the pee levee because I drink a shit-ton of water. I stowed myself away into a back corner restroom stall where the light was flickering. Apparently that string was a major component of my underwear’s elastic band because without it, my underwear just kept getting bigger and bigger like they were magical. **ExpectoGrow’Em!** I tucked and folded them bad boys up like I was crafting origami cranes down there and went back out to hit the rides.
By the end of the night I could have sailed a ship with these bloomers, or at least have worn them as a shall or a hipster infinity scarf. At one point I seriously had that shiz tucked up under the bottom of my bra.
If I can figure out how to harness the power of the string I will market rip-cord panties to the world for the holiday season. “Pull this string! BOOM! Comfort.” Well, until they fall out of your pant leg.