You may be wondering how happiness can be found in one's own undergarments. Simple, I'm not talking about any ordinary underwear. I'm talking about the pair of Wonder Woman Underoos my parents bought me when I was three. When I put those on, I felt as if I could conquer the world. They were the definition of who I wanted to be: someone special. I felt like the most powerful little girl in the universe when I had them on, but without them I was just a plain, old ordinary kid.

I wanted to show the world how special I truly was. My mother took me shopping one day, letting me wear a pullover dress which later proved to be a big mistake. She strolled through the store, the unsuspecting victim of complete humiliation, as I tore off my dress, and followed her up aisles and down aisles until finally the smiles and snickers piqued her curiosity. Her head slowly turned around and then her eyes bulged when she saw me standing there with nothing but my Underoos and a smile. She grabbed my arm and quickly dragged me through the store, muttering unfamiliar words while hanging her head in embarrassment.

I was completely perplexed! All I had done was show the world my pride and joy. Then my mother explained to me that some joys were better kept a secret, that way nobody could take them away. That was a sly way to save her from any further incidents like this.

As I grew older, my tastes became more complex; school, boys, sleepovers, but none of these felt quite the same as a pair of Wonder Woman Underoos. c