As in the zipper that held together the entire front of said onesie. The zipper I had to undo to take the thing off and sit nearly nekkid on the toilet to pee. The zipper that wouldn’t zip back up, leaving my bra, belly and top of the undies EXPOSED.
WHO EVEN WEARS A ONESIE.
I’m 28 years old and so badly wanted to shout ‘CAN SOMEONE GET MY MOMMY!’ from the bathroom stall.
Instead, because I’d already downed 2-3 glasses of wine, I bolted out of the stall shouting “I FUCKING BROKE MY ONESIE!” in a Superman type motion holding my onesie wide open, stickin’ my boobs out for good measure.
My alcoholic cousin happened to be fixing her makeup when I came out and simply responded with “Oh shit.” before getting back to her lips.
I held my shit together (literally) and went out to find my mom, who somehow got my cousins mom and a bunch of other mom figures on the hunt of safety pins.
I used 16 safety pins to hold my outfit together. I was also approached by many strangers opening the conversation with “You’re starting a fashion trend!” type comments.
I’m wearing a onesie held together by safety pins. I look like an actual fucking adult baby. I look dumb as fuck.
I didn’t pee for the rest of the night, which is a miracle on its own considering the amount of wine I consumed.