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My Underwear Misadventure

Writer's picture: Peggy McManusPeggy McManus

Updated: Feb 2

By Peggy McManus

October 2024


September’s story about Dad airing out his long underwear by standing them in the corner got me thinking about my own traumatic underwear mishaps. I’m proud to say that I’ve never aired out my underwear by standing them in a corner, but this is not to say I haven’t had my fair share of underwear misadventures. 


One day when I was in first grade I was digging frantically through the laundry basket looking for a pair of clean underwear when Dad yelled that the school bus was coming.


“ I guess you’re going commando today,” he said with a shrug, shooing me out the door.


“Good morning class”, my teacher, Mrs. Poke, said once all the students had settled in their seats. “Because today is Student Health Day, we are going to the gym to get checked out by visiting nurses. Please strip down to your underwear and line up by the door.”


But I don’t have underwear! I thought, as panic rushed through me. I shot my hand up. “I-I-I don’t want to go,” I stammered when Mrs. Poke eventually saw my hand and called on me.  


“Well, the permission slip I have from your mother means she expects you to be there,” Mrs. Poke said with a sternness that told me there would be no point arguing with her.


Kids were already piling clothes on their chairs and scurrying into line, hopping from leg to leg and rubbing their arms to ward off the chills that come from standing around in one’s skivvies. 


Slowly I peeled off my shirt and jeans and shimmied between desks, making my way stealthily to the girl’s line. Amazingly, no one noticed I was naked down to my cowboy boots. Mrs. Poke opened the classroom door and began leading us toward the gym. Other classroom doors opened and soon the entire first grade filled the hall, but still no one noticed my nakedness. I began to think I might get away with it. 


It wasn’t until we reached the gym that my precarious situation was detected — by the principal, no less. 


“Miss McManus, why aren’t you wearing underwear?”, his shocked voice boomed across the gym. The room went silent as my classmates turned to stare at me. The principal raced over, grabbed me by the arm and hastily dragged me behind a screen in the nearest examination station. 


“Where is your underwear?” he gasped in a voice several octaves higher than usual.


“Can you repeat the question”, I asked. “I can’t hear you over all the laughter.” 


“This is atrocious,” the principal groaned. “You should know you can’t come to school buck naked!”


“But Mrs. Poke said I had to be here,” I whined. Clearly, she was the one who should be in trouble, not me. “I didn’t want to come.”


“I should say not,” he said. “Now stay here while I find you a towel.”


By the time I emerged from behind the screen wrapped in a gym towel, the teachers had managed to get the riled up first graders under control, but I could still hear their whispers and giggles as I passed them on my way back to my classroom.


That night I handed Dad a note from Mrs Poke. 


“What’s this about?”, he asked, looking at me warily.


I glared at him and said, “You're in trouble for sending me to school butt naked!” 


 
Recipe of the Month

Every Halloween Mom made popcorn balls. They were delicious and she had to hide most of them so there would be some left to hand out to the trick-or-treaters. 


In those days, at least in our blue-collar neighborhood, kids didn’t have highfalutin Halloween costumes from a store. We made our own from whatever we could find around the house. My sisters and I raided Dad’s closet for worn, moth-eaten shirts, old ties and ratty knit caps. He had plenty. Once we were dressed up as little vagabonds, Dad used a stick of charcoal to draw beards and mustaches on our excited faces.


One year we couldn’t find any charcoal. This was a travesty! Without our beards we looked like our usual ragamuffin selves — no one would give us candy looking like this! Luckily, Mom saved the day. She scooped old coffee grounds from the compost bucket and stuck them to our faces with petroleum jelly. Finally, armed with flashlights and pillow cases to hold our bounty, we raced out into the night.


Side note: Many years later, our youngest sister, Erin, was allowed to pick out a real Halloween mask from the local five-and-dime. After careful consideration, she made her decision... her first Halloween mask would be — a vagabond! 

I blame all my childhood cavities on these gooey balls of yum. Still, even my dread of the dentist couldn't keep me from eating as many as I could get away with.


 

Pat's Quote of the Month

“Baths are bad because soap and water will eat holes in your protective crust.” 


 
Pat's Yarns

A North Idaho Halloween, By Pat McManus

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