Is your interest piqued?
Dateline: My underwear drawer; 8:30 this morning.
Down to my last pair again? It was only like 4 days ago that I restocked it with freshly laundered undies. I knew I was starting to run low but this is living on the edge.
You know how you get to that point when you haven't "gone underwear shopping" (as 22 year old girlfriend terms it) for awhile but you know you need to because the ones inhabiting the drawer . . . and the hamper . . . and the basket of unfolded laundry sitting on the living room couch . . . and the floor . . . are showing signs of advanced wear and neglect? So I've reached that point. Or, more accurately, I reached that point some time ago but didn't notice because the rest of my life is going to hell in a handbasket and what matter is underwear when my new hobby is lying on the couch sobbing 18 hours at a stretch?
I guess I must have been paying enough attention to the problem to occasionally throw out those which were significantly beyond their expiration date. [And no, I don't do this with previously enjoyed panties.] My conscious mind, however, didn't quite pick up on the mathematical problem before me:
undies - undies = disturbing lack of undies
Are you all screaming into your monitors, "Go shopping for heaven's sake and find something just a smidgen less inane to talk about!"
Oh, would that I could . . .
But it's just not that easy.
Several of my girlfriends and I were sitting around yakking one day . . . scratch that . . . we were having a genteel and refined discussion as our brilliant and non-neglected homeschooled children were immersed in some advanced genetic engineering experiments, when the subject of midlife affairs came up (in purely abstract terms, of course.) Angie mentioned that the most readable sign that a husband is having a fling is if he buys new underwear. Good to know!
Now, my sweet Mister knows all about, and is nobly tolerant of, my less than above board chats with a certain Young Guy*. Mister has said--and let me directly quote--"Have your fun. Just don't sleep with him."
Are you catching on to my dilemma? I can't go out and buy new underwear now! What would my sweet Mister think?!
So I'm stuck. UndieLess in Seattle.
*Disclaimer: This is mostly played for laughs. While Young Guy is a real person, there is nothing going on between us outside of the occasional phone call which is mostly maternal in nature. Just so we're all on the same page . . .