Look for the crotch gusset

August 27th, 2005 at 11:07 pm by james

I woke this morning to Josie on one of those perpetual yell-loops, “Mummy. Daddy. Mummy. Daddy.” etc ad nauseum. It admittedly took a while to get through to me but then I rolled out of bed, letting her out of her 2-by-4 dungeon just before the spikes lowered far enough to pierce her kneecaps. She didn’t want to dress or take any clothes downstairs despite it being cold so we staggered down, me topless and her bottomless. I put the telly on and made a pot of coffee. Two cups in she decided she was cold. Casting about in desperation for a reason not to climb the stairs I found a pair of trousers left from one of several eBay envelopes that have arrived at the door over the last few days. It seems you cannot, however, wear trousers without panties. Crawled upstairs to search for a tiny pair of knickers.

Back dowstairs the requirement for trousers had passed. It returned after another cup of coffee, however, and dressing began in earnest. I helped Josie on with her knickers twice, both times winding up with a leg-hole around her waist. Sadly, I have no confidence that had I tried a third time I would have got it right. So convinced was I, in fact, that I’d got it right the second time that I decided I’d got it right the first time too, and that it was OK to wear a pair of knickers with a waist so tight you couldn’t grip them to pull them up since Michelle, who knows all things, hadn’t taken them out of circulation. I left them on and moved on to trousers.

Fortunately Michelle came downstairs at this point and fell about laughing before showing me the crotch gusset which had been positioned over Josie’s hip. I know to look for gussets now. Later in the day I found out why gussets are useful, but I’ll spare you that.

After a fourth cup of coffee and an hour or so staring into space I was judged awake enough to drive so we went out.

The ends of my days are not much more distinguished. Last night, holding Josie’s hand to go up to bath, I tripped and made a damn fine attempt to somersault upstairs. I whacked my head hard on a step with a clear line of sight to my ankles (about six inches away – I know I’m not that supple) and landed in a heap on the stairs completely disoriented. Josie laughed so hard she couldn’t stand.

Oh well. At least I make them laugh.

3 Responses to “Look for the crotch gusset”

  1. Kerry-b Says:

    *smile* I think you can blame your upbringing for this one. You came from a single sex family and admitting even KNOWING about panties and gussets would have given you away. I feel you… I’m not sure whether to put our tiny boys forwards or backwards on the loo to have a pee (even with the step they’re too little to get it over the seat). We have a right to bumble around with these things. And providing our significant others with a laugh is as good as it gets.

  2. badlard Says:

    NEXT, you’ll have to start putting barrettes in her hair…consider yourself warned. And I went to school with very weird hair on the days my Dad was in charge. Hope Josie fares better. – anna

  3. Gerry Adlard Says:

    I don’t remember baby Ben having any hair. I just remember that there’s nothing quite as crotch as a crotch gusset, especially if its made with crotch schtich.

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