Honestly, I’ve struggled to make sense of why they exist.

Like, why on earth would grown up ladies want to hunch themselves up into all kinds of impossible positions to snap the coochie-clasp of a bodysuit on themselves? Like onsies aren’t hard enough to put on babies. Like fumbling around down there just to pee is normal. Like a regular shirt doesn’t just make more sense.

But, I figured before I judge too hard, I should try one.

Newsflash: a bodysuit was as unflattering and ridiculous as you can imagine.

But, it was also stretchy. And soft. And soooo comfortable!

I have to admit, if I closed my eyes, and pretended I was 22, it wasn’t entirely horrible. And, I finally see why Bey lives life in only a onesie!

Okay, not really. It’s ludicrous.

But, based on comfort alone, I feel like onesie life could be kind of great.

So, I bought it!

I’d show you a photo, but super inappropriate and also gross.

Plus, after texting it to my BFF for a hearty laugh, I deleted it from my phone and The Cloud and literally any place it could possibly resurface and be shown to any human with eyes.

If you’re considering buying a bodysuit to add your wardrobe (I know, lol), here are some things you need to know about that life.

5 Things To Know About Buying A Bodysuit

1. Peeing is really stupid.

Just down right dumb. Entirely inconvenient. And I don’t mean like “cute jumper” inconvenient, I mean like dude, I dislocated my spine trying to get the stupid crotch snaps back together following the incident inconvenient. Bright side, you don’t have to get naked to make the magic happen. But, don’t even be in a hurry to finish up.

2. Chaffing is real.

Summer heat and humidity, mixed with a few hours outdoors and some serious thigh game, and you’ll be spread eagle-ing it later on your bed while you rub Desitin on your lady bits and fan them with the nearest magazine you can get your hands on.

3. You can actually see your lunch.

They’re tight, OK? Like a swimsuit. You eat lunch at work and your coworkers can actually watch your food digest through your shirt from their desks.

4. They go with everything and really, nothing at all.

They’re the perfect shirt because they’re tucked in nice and neat — no bunching, no length issues, no exposing your tramp stamp butt-crack when you bend down to manage your kid’s shoe laces. Buuuuut, also, nothing really looks great that tucked in, and no belt, scarf, vest, or jacket helped me manage the mischief.

5. Contrary to popular belief (Beyonce, I’m talking to you), they’re supposed to be worn with pants.

Each and every time. I contemplated going grocery shopping, to football practice, and on my photo shoot just straight onesied and pantsless, but I figured I’d be arrested.