Middle Of The Night Musings

The other night I couldn’t sleep. I’m not sure if it was from knee pain, or pondering how to get rid of the ants in my kitchen. Perhaps it was because one of my dogs had a whistling booger. Who knows? So, as I was trying to force myself back to sleep, I started to wonder… Is there something generational about the kind of underpants women wear? My mom’s is the Granny Pants Generation, mine is the Bikini Brief Generation, and my daughter’s is the Thong Generation. As women’s butts are getting bigger, coverage is definitely shrinking. What gives? Will a future granddaughter belong to the Commando Generation? Having four daughters posed an underwear dilemma for my mom, which she solved in her usual creative way. Mom put a series of dots on our panty labels with red fingernail polish - No dots, one dot, two dots, and one really big dot. Men’s underwear choices are much simpler – boxers or briefs. The only generational identifier for men is the proximity of the waistband to their armpits. The older men get, the higher the waistband climbs. Think of Fred Mertz, of “I Love Lucy” fame. I seriously doubt the 20-something Fred wore his belt near his nipples, as he did in his 60-somethings. I could be wrong about this underwear issue. Could be it only makes perfect sense at 1 am. Could be a whistling booger helped to skew my sleep-deprived logic. Or could be I’m onto something profound.