It was my daughter who needed underwear. Not me.
I’d watched yesterday as she fiddled with the elastic band on the pair she was wearing. Only the band was like a belt holding up nothing, having severed itself entirely from the cloth.
We took care of that today.
And since we were on the subject, I checked in the women’s section to see if there was, you know, anything pretty and practical.
As I held up the first pair, my eyes bugged. “These are huge,” I muttered. I checked the tag. Ahem…my size. I held the things up again. “I must wear huge underwear,” I gasped.
My daughter was right there to console me. “Yeah, mom,” she affirmed. “Yours are humongous.”
We left with what we came for.
And nothing more.