So, David's sitting on the couch folding laundry last night, just the way he does every single night ever since we had three children who produce just as many daily loads of laundry. He picks up a pair of cotton, rust-colored panties and asks, "Whose are these?"The reason he is asking is they are large. Very large. One might say, gargantuan. My first thought is, "Thank God he realizes that those do not belong to me." Because had he handed those elephantine underwear over to me, and said, "Here, These are yours." I would have been forced to have an emotional unraveling, complete with, "Is that how LARGE you think I've gotten? I have had three kids, for God's sake, but please, I'm not size 16 yet." But, these panties are so large, even my husband, who doesn't pay attention to these things, would understand they do not belong to me.
So, he goes, "Who do these belong to?"
I shoot back, "I should ask YOU the same questions/" Because that is what they say in the movies when someone finds a mysterious pair of underwear in the apartment.
"You think I'm having an affair with a woman that wears THESE?"
He holds the panties up to showcase their full width and breadth They are almost as large as my toddler.
"If you are, you should really reconsider," I tell him.
So, he folded the panties up neatly and placed them on the coffee table, with the rest of the folded laundry. The rest, I put away, but the gargantuan panties remain on the coffee table. Because what do you do with such a find? Throw them out, I guess. But is that really my place? What if these are someone's FAVORITE pair of panties and they're looking high and low for them? I know I'm very attached to my favorite pairs.
So, if you've lost your panties at my apartment, please let me know. I will get them to you ASAP.
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