why can't my underwear be cuter- and smaller?

Last summer I glued my pants and underwear to my butt. This was worse. Somehow yesterday, toward the end of the day, I was walking down the hall at school and a teacher (whom I adore) walking in the other direction pointed out that I had something trailing behind me that dropped to the floor in a wad. I turned around to look and low and behold it was a pair of my underwear in a pile in the middle of the hallway, smack dab in the middle of the elementary school where I work. Why couldn't it have been a sock or a fabric softener. No. It was a giant pair of my underwear that had somehow managed to hang out in the pant leg of my jeans all day until making a very embarrassing appearance. So I swooped them off the ground crushing them into a ball, holding them tightly in my fist and went back to my classroom. Of course I didn't have my school bag yesterday and got to carry them home in my lunchbox. Thank goodness they were clean. What I can't figure out is how the heck while wearing my tightest pair of jeans a giant wad of underwear went unnoticed in my pant leg all day? How many people now assume I have a giant tumor on the back of my thigh? Could the day have been any worse?