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Panty Shock

I was halfway between the counter and the sink balancing a hot cookie sheet with a wimpy hot pad when my daughter slunk towards me, eyes agog.

“You have to see this, Mom,” she tittered. 

I landed the cookie sheet on the cutting board at the same time my seven year old steered a Fred Meyer ad an inch from my eyes.

“Right here,” she said. 

My eyes spun circles until they rested where her fingers were pointing.

“Look at that underwear,” she giggled.

And I did.  All three inches of it.

I made another sweep of the ad and of the teensy thong-like underwear on the back-to-school page before finally exclaiming, “those are some tiny undies.” 

My daughter nodded.  Then the two of us shook our heads.  A momentary pact.

We wouldn’t be falling for a lousy pair of floss…

not at our ages.


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