“Mommy! You’re wearing princess panties?!??!??” My daughter’s squeal of delight reverberated off of the metal walls of the stall.
She stared in awe.
The overly crowded movie theater bathroom seemed to fall deathly silent in an instant.
“Mommy. They are so beautiful! I want some.” She reached out reverentially to touch them as I hovered over the toilet seat doing my business. I swatted her hand away.
“Not until you are much, much older.”
We washed our hands then headed back out into the hallway where her brother and her dad and the dozens other men were standing, waiting on their female companions.
“Daddy! Daddy!” she called loudly as she skipped happily over to him. “Did you know Mom is wearing princess panties?”
So much for the element of surprise.
And from that moment forward, my lacy underwear was known as “princess panties.”