The Jennifer Blogs

Have you seen that commercial where the beautiful woman walks into a clothing store, wriggling and writhing? She is making all kinds of funky faces and distorts her body in kinds of ways, til finally she falls down face-first into the carpet. On the floor beside her -- a display with wedgie-free underwear. We are to surmise from this commercial the woman was having a hard time dealing with a wedgie, but didn't want to face the humiliation of picking it in public.



I wish my daughter was worried about this same humiliation. She picks here wedgies freely, as though she's covering her face during a sneeze or something equally socially acceptable.



It's great that they sell wedgie-free underwear for adult women. But I've never seen anyone with their fingers in their rear so much as my little petite flower. She's way too pretty to always have her fingers up her butt.



In the cab, in the pool, in line at the grocery store, standing up in a subway car, taking Communion at church -- she doesn't discriminate. If the underwear is creeping, she'll pick it up no matter where she is and no matter who is looking.



I asked her last night why she is compelled to pick every wedgie, even when there are people staring. She looked me dead in the eye and said, "I have a high-maintenance butt."



I guess that explains it.