Underwear is Fascinating
Alex was about 18 months when he was talking about super
heros and that he needed a cape. I did not want him to have a cape or anything
else wrapped around his little neck so I tried to put him off by going in
another super hero direction. He played along and I thought the cape thing had
been forgotten. Okay, I was a new mother, I didn’t know better. Next thing I
know he is running up and down the hallway with his cape. He took one of my
bras, slung the shoulder strap over his head with the rest of the bra trailing
down his back. Cape accomplished. I just shook my head, as I do so often these
days.
When
Alex was three he went with his soon-to-be step-father and I out of town and
stayed at a hotel for my birthday. We swam, went out to dinner and had a great
time. While back in our room he started to play with his Happy Meal toys. They
were those ‘The Dog’ tiny stuffed animals. Cute. Anyway, he made a house for
them and was so proud of it. When I saw it I had to work hard to not laugh. He
had taken a lovely push-up bra and laid it flat on the floor so that the boobs
were facing up and had a two little dogs backed in where boobs would have
normally been. Dog apartments or boulder-holders…you make the call.
Drew walked out of the bathroom pulling up his jeans and
as always I was nearby. He looks up and lets out a little squeal and says ‘I
don’t want you to see my underwear!’ I say to him that only this morning I saw
him running naked through the house and now he is suddenly concerned with
modesty? He glosses over that and the fact remains that I am not to see his
underwear even though I bought it, washed it and picked it out for him that
very morning, I am still not permitted to lay eyes on it at this particular
time of day. Whatever makes you happy Drew, I’ll avert my eyes.
My sons have gotten a little bit older so I decided to
upgrade them from little brief underwear to the cooler and hipper boxer briefs.
I bought a couple of packages and they are the cutest little things, I mean,
they are cool, boys get to the point where they don’t want to be cute, they
want to be cool. Anyway, I washed them and present them to Drew and Adam. Drew
loved them which meant only one thing, Adam was going to throw a fit. ‘How come
I have to wear them? I like my underwear!’ I told him to just give them a try,
wear them a little and see how you like them, even as I was saying this I knew
what would happen. He’d put them on and tell me he doesn’t like them, which is
exactly what happened. Fine kiddo, wear your tighty-whities.
When Alex was little he liked to help me fold the
laundry. Unusual but true. He would fold his underwear and the hand towels,
little things for a little boy. Sorting socks was a favorite because it would
become a game to see who would end up with the socks that had no matches since
those were most likely eaten by the dryer. The night I stopped having him help
me was the night he held up a pink thong and said in a most confused little
voice ‘I, ah, don’t know how to fold this. What is this?’ I was slightly
embarrassed and didn’t want to tell him at that point what it was, I felt it
would thoroughly confuse or enthrall him and I was not looking for either of
those things to enter into the equation.
When I was married to my first husband his brother and
sister-in-law would stay with us when they were in town. We had the most fun
and usually laughed ourselves stupid. My brother-in-law was a Marine and quite
a big guy but very funny and very good at trying to embarrass me. I tried to
head this off at every possible turn. Unfortunately, there are times that I was
not diligent enough in my paranoia. One evening I was at work and realized that
I left my underwear in the dryer. This was the same day that they would be
arriving at my home. I was petrified to say the least. I hoped against hope
that I would get home and no one would’ve seen fit to have done any laundry.
This was not the case. My in-laws were in bed when I got home, my husband was
not home yet. I found a pair of my panties hanging from the ceiling fan in the
dining room, another pair on the knob of the bathroom door and yet another pair
shut in the door to my bedroom at eye level so that I would be sure not to miss
them. I knew I was in for it the next day when I saw him and there was just
nothing to do about it but hit it head-on. Before I saw him that next day his
lovely wife let me know that he had opened the dryer and said ‘Oooooo…Carol
forgot her underwear and I found it’ in a singsong voice and that he had worn a
pair around the house on his head for a while. She did keep him from hanging
all of them up around the house or making a scavenger hunt out of it for me to
see if I could in fact locate them all. I had the best times when they stayed
with us, honestly.
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