Preface: My mother passed away just after Christmas 2005. This is an email I sent to my sisters just before Christmas the next year. That was back in the pre-blog days where I had no forum for my ranting stories except emails to my poor, long-suffering sisters.
December 18, 2006
Tonight I am in a holiday funk. For the first time in my life I will not be receiving panties from Santa for Christmas...cheap, white, Dixie Belle brand granny panties, size extra-huge, available at the local dollar store for about $1.38. The panties have been a yearly tradition for me and my two older sisters, The Christmas Panty Queens. It was a tradition I detested when I was young. After all, who wants underwear for Christmas?
In later years, after we were all married, it was kind of an inside joke to get panties from Santa. Daddy took photos of us, year after year, holding up the panties among the piles of opened gifts. Dixie Belle has kept the same style for the last thirty-five years so every panty looks exactly the same every year. I appreciated the panties. I wore them out knowing there would be a fresh batch under the tree next Christmas.
At some time in my thirties I realized that my Santa mother had purchased the bulk of my lifetime supply of underwear. There's something a little icky about your mother buying your underwear when you're thirty-something but that's how it was. Oh, I have purchased a few sexy Victoria's Secret underthings... "Party Panties"...but for daily wear I always reach for the white granny panties. They must be white; must be granny.
I cringed at the first pair of granny panties I received and refused to wear them for a long time. The inevitable day came, around age 14, when they were the only clean pair in the drawer. They felt funny but at the end of the day I realized I had gone the whole day without a wedgie. After that I was a granny panty devotee.
My middle sister Pris, the prissy, girly sister, wears granny panties also. You would think she would go for the skimpy, lacy numbers. My older sister, Nana, the only real granny among us, prefers bikinis. I guess she finds them sexier than the granny panties.
I've never found granny panties to be a hindrance to my sex life. Men discover that extra-huge granny panties provide lots of room to frisk around in. They want what is in the panties after all and, like a Christmas present, the wrapping is minor in the scheme of things.
Sexy little panties are a not-so-subtle indicator to males that the wearer would like to get laid. Men, being rather dense on their best days, sometimes don't get the hint. I find that saying, "Hey honey, do ya want to git nekkid and screw?" works well in most instances. Only the comatose of the testosterone set don't pick up on the hint. Whatever panties might have been on at the time are quickly forgotten.
So here I am on the eve of the Christmas season in my year-old ratty granny panties feeling rather blue. They are the last of the last-ever Santa panties I will receive. Yes, I will have some new granny panties in January. I will go to the local dollar store and plunk down a buck thirty-eight and buy myself a handful of Dixie Belles out of necessity. But it won't be the same.
There will not be the comforting feeling of the knowing the Christmas panties are under the tree. My sisters and I will not check around the room this year to be sure we are all holding the same size box, indicative of the identical panties within, so we can open them at the same time so as not to spoil the "surprise" for the other sisters.
There will be no hullabaloo exclamations of "Oh LOOK! Panties!" as if they were a novel gift. There will not be the joy of the pile of crisp white panties in the drawer to start the new year. The Christmas season will not be the same. My hiney will not be the same.
I realized tonight I have reached a turning point in my life. I must now be a grown-up and be responsible for the acquisition of my own underwear. Since I sport gray hair and bifocals I guess it was about time anyway. But I don't like it, I don't like it at all. The Christmas Panty Queen will not go quietly into that good night.
There must be a way to have the tradition continue. I wonder if it would help if I wrote a letter to Santa, "Dear Santa, I've been a good girl this year. Please bring me some Dixie Belle granny panties, white, size extra-huge." Do you think he would get it before Christmas????
The End
The Rest of the Story
Under the tree that year was a box tagged TO: Speck, FROM: Santa.
Inside were seven pair of extra-huge white granny panties. I laughed when I opened the box and found Christmas panties. Nana Santa had done well with the surprise. They were indeed size Extra Huge, but we exchanged them the next day for size Merely Generous.
Later when I got home, I opened the box and held them to my cheek, thinking of the legacy of the Christmas panties and how sweet my sister was to try and make this a 'normal' Christmas, and just cried and cried and cried.
8 comments:
Oh, Speck.....I think we had the same mother...sort of. My mom started this tradition when I was in my 30's.....BUT.....she was the grannie pantie wearer and she gave me back the panties I had given her the year before! She gave me more the next year and I told her the kind I wore and did she want them plus the previous years that were my gift to her...no. The third year she did it again and to beat her to the punch I gave all of them back to her on her October birthday the 4th year. We had a good laugh over them, but she told me she thought it was "loose" of me to wear bikinis! I have now grown up to french cut "briefs"
What a wonderful story. I am truly sorry for your loss. If we had a Dixie around here, I'd buy you a truck load and send them wrapped to you and your sisters.
Awwwwww....
I never thought I could get varklempt about granny panties.
I am, I am varklempty too! what the hell?!
Also,
"extra-huge granny panties provide lots of room to frisk around in" is the best line ever.
Well I just stopped by to say hi,and I can see that I'm completely out of my element.
Not a single mention of crew socks,or after shave..
BTW.. "Hey honey, do ya want to git nekkid and screw?"..ssems a little ambiguous to me. ;)
Rosemary - Gasp! French cut briefs! You hoochie momma you! I love the 'beat her to the punch' story.
KA - What a sweetie! I heart you.
Lorraine - Underwear varklemption. Whooda thunk it? Hey, that would be a great name for a band.
Hat - I like it when somebody is frisking around in my underwear...somebody besides me that is.
Sling - Wherever you find the word "panty" or "panties", just substitute "Batman underwear" and re-read.
...seems a little ambiguous to me.
Congratulations; your Testosterone Set Membership card has just been renewed for 2008.
Came to you through Willym's post. What a great story. Aren't families the strangest, most wonderful things. I'll always think of it when I see granny panties now.
This story gave me lump in my throat. You wrote it on my mom's birthday. Good deal for your sis to carry on the Santa panties tradition. Your mom lives on in many ways, I'm sure, and now, also through Christmas panties.
Post a Comment