Labor Day was dreary and rainy here in Pittsburgh.
With some time to kill, no sunshine to be found, and no laboring to be done, I headed to a trendy section of the city to window shop.
Some of the stores were closed for the holiday, but many were open.
Victoria’s Secret had panties on sale….
…and it was hilarious to watch people walk past the sign shaking their own badonkadonks.
I don’t shop at Victoria’s.
I USED to shop there…but then along came the moment when I realized that 1) their product line might be TOO YOUNG-STYLED for my age; and 2) the big “secret” is that Victoria is laughing the entire way to the bank.
I’ll risk embarrassment and share the exact moment of this realization…
Laundry is the household chore that I hate the most….because laundry never ends. Just as soon as all the laundry is done, you change your clothes, and POW, there’s more laundry.
So, it was laundry day. The dark cycle, to be exact. Trying to beat the laundry demons, I slipped off the shorts I was wearing and threw them in the washer. “Smart thinking,” I said to myself, “one less thing to wash next week.”
Mr. Backbone’s eyes were glued to The Golf Channel and I could easily sneak past him without ever being noticed…or so I thought.
And just as I was starting up the stairs…
Mr. Backbone: Hey, there’s a HOLE in your underwear.
Me: Yeah, I know.
Mr. Backbone: Just checkin….didn’t know if you knew.
Me: They’re VICTORIA’S SECRET. It’s a DESIGN. The hole is SUPPOSED to be there.
Mr. Backbone: Huh?
Mr. Backbone: Oh, I didn’t know. Usually when your underwear gets a hole, it’s time to throw them out.
Me: It didn’t GET a hole. It HAS a hole. There’s a difference.
…and that, my friends, is how this story ends. Any smart husband would do exactly what mine did…turn his attention back to the TV and pretend the HOLE conversation never happened.