Wonder Women to the Rescue!

No, this wasn’t a Halloween costume.

It’s evidence of yet another fabulously trashy tip I picked up from my youth.  When there’s nothing on the three TV channels you have, dress up and run around in your underwear (and diaper if you’re not yet potty trained) with your sister and hold a photo shoot – creating your own fun.

Rescuing a ho-hum Friday night.

This photo captures many aspects from my childhood home…

Multi-colored carpet (a gorgeous green, brown and a yellow mix that was sightly shag) in the kitchen (because it’s oh-so-easy to clean food out of fiber), a rotary phone on the wall (where my mom conversed with others in her ‘nice’ voice when we were in trouble, all the while pointing her finger and mouthing just how much trouble we were going to be in when she hung up), and the kitchen counter complete with a few Coors cans (now vintage style), waiting to be cashed in for five cents each (a recycling incentive that should be everywhere) at Cheese’s, the local grocery store.

By supplying us with Wonder Woman Underoos, my sister and I single-handedly created evening entertainment for the whole family (a burden we were more than happy to carry, if you can’t tell).

It’s like my folks came home after a long week and went down the checklist to ensure a smooth Friday evening:

Beer for us? Check.

Costumes (in this case Underoos) for girls to keep them busy? Check.

Beer for us? Check.

Camera to capture this precious moment forever? Check.

Oh, and beer for us? Check. Check. Check.

Looking back having so much fun in our fancy Underoos does seem a tad on the white trashy side.  But we looked good doing it, right? RIGHT?

CBXB

25 thoughts on “Wonder Women to the Rescue!

  1. It’s also good practice for people who want to end up working in the entertainment industry. 🙂

    • You’re so right! And it does build some self confidence…

      • Maybe this explains why I never learned to love being on stage. But I was so embarrassed about underwear, that when my grandmother gave me pretty panties for my sixth birthday, I threw them under the couch so my brothers wouldn’t see my underwear (and they were still in the package!). But then, maybe I’d be a different person if there had been Wonder Woman Underoos when I was growing up.

        I’m only slightly kidding–brave role models are important! My role model was snively Buffy on Family Affair.

      • I think we’re all a bit embarrassed of underwear as kids – but for some reason, we mistook Underoos as costumes. We thought we were actually Wonder Women. So I’m in complete agreement that brave role models are important – at whatever age!

  2. Tricia says:

    Fabulous! I fondly remember the hours of entrainment in my Wonder Woman underoos!

  3. You and your sister look adorable! Don’t worry..we all have pics like that..:)

  4. I don’t remember having underoos. My litter brother had them, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t. Or maybe I just don’t remember. But there are definitely pics of me running around in my underwear and my mom’s high heels. LOL. Always entertaining to dress up when you’re a kid. Heck! It’s entertaining now as an adult!

    • I think we forced my mom to find girl Underoos because all of our boy cousins had them and we were jealous. She probably searched for months at our constant whining. And I agree, dressing up is fun no matter what age we are!

  5. Jani says:

    Love those fearless Wonderwomen!

  6. kellisamson says:

    Your blog is so much fun!
    My mom wouldn’t buy me underoos. So lame. But there were a lot of Coors cans like that around my house, too, growing up :).

  7. ndarling@netins.net says:

    Right!!

    Sent from my U.S. Cellular® Android-powered device

  8. This is just great! I wish had those when I was a kid, but I know I also have pics like that ;D

  9. Very cute. I’m sure there was no crime in your neighborhood.

  10. Ha ha! I remember the underoo days! Nothing like a super hero to keep the kiddos entertained!

  11. I can’t get past the kitchen carpeting. That would seriously screw with my compulsive cleaning disorder (CCD)

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