American Peril

I am wearing a unitard as I type this.

I told myself I purchased it as a “layering piece” but let’s be honest, I love the feeling of hiking my leggings up to my bra and it was only time before suspenders got added into the mix. So here I sit. Straps and all. Unable to pee without completely removing my cardigan and belt. A poorly reimagined Steve Urkel.

At least his pants were functional.

The words “adult onesie” come to mind.

While I fully admit that the passions of teen lust (or worse, love) really know no bounds, I may force my future children to wear unitards underneath all of their clothing come puberty. Perhaps the thought of removing an entire layer of lycra from one’s skin before participating in illicit activities would outweigh the lure of being showcased on Teen Mom?

We’re not lazy people, my kin, just prone to boughts of extreme fatigue.