The pants fall down

So they do.  Today, I'll share a little embarrassing story with you.  You see, I have a favorite pair of Zumba bottoms I wear.  They are pink and sparkly and girly so, of course, I love them.  The only bad part about them is that they are a little big...but, they are spandex-y, so shouldn't be a problem, right?  Hmm...wrong. 

I've never wore these particular bottoms while teaching a class...only when taking a class.  These bottoms have a little problem with riding down while I'm moving around but since I've always been just taking a class and not teaching and in view of everyone while wearing them, I've wore them and allowed myself occasional moments to pull them back into place while attending Zumba classes. 

This past Wednesday, when I pulled the hot pink glittery spandex beauts from my drawer, my memory failed me.  I forget these lovelies like to work themselves down my booty when I'm wiggling and jiggling, so I put them on to go teach my fourth Zumba class here in Derry.  The class I teach while I'm being watched by many on a stage. 

So here we are...in the middle of said Zumba class and I'm quickly reminded of the looseness of my Zumba bottoms as I find them riding down.  I am constantly pulling them up in front of everyone.  Now, I don't get embarrassed usually straightening my clothing up while teaching a class...we all need to make adjustments at times.  And, I didn't this time either. So, of course, I had to occasionally pull my Zumba bottoms up at times just to make sure they stayed on.  No biggie.

However, my big mouth never fails me when it comes to embarrassing myself. So, when I was making my pull up adjustments, I kept saying, " Sorry, my pants are falling down."  I said this everytime I readjusted them because well, everyone could see me, so why not make a joke and a funny face while doing it and explain what I was doing.  The embarrassing part of this however didn't hit me until after class.  And I'm so disappointed in myself because I knew better.  I had been told this before, but for some reason, it never registered in my American mind.  So here it is...what Americans call pants, the Irish call trousers.  What Americans call underwear or panties, the Irish call pants.  So, basically what I was shouting out during my Zumba class was the equivalent to, " Sorry, my panties/underwear keep falling down." 

Lesson learned.  I'll never make that mistake again.  I just hope they knew what I meant. 

Oh, look...here's the culprit now.  So, we meet again pink Zumba pants...er, I mean trousers.  Dammit!