Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Underwear tales

If you've been reading this blog for very long, why haven't you gotten professional help by now?

No, that's not right. What I meant to say was, if you've been reading this blog for very long, you know I have a long-standing tradition of visiting StuffMart twice a week to pick up milk and to replace my sons' socks and underwear, which disappear under strange and unexplained circumstances. They're the only people I know who, upon walking to the end of our driveway to get the mail, leave fully clothed and return with nothing more than half a t-shirt, the back pocket from their jeans, and two shoes (usually not matching) - and no mail. And that's not even during tornado season.

Anyway. As I tunneled out from under Mt. Laundry lately, I noticed more than the usual number of boys' underwear on the west slope. Unfortunately, nearly every pair looked as though it had been used to smuggle cactus from Brazil to Canada. What's up with that? My girls are still wearing underwear they've had since they outgrew princess panties. What in the world goes on inside a boy's pair of jeans that turns his briefs into shop rags after only one or two wearings?

That was a rhetorical question. I don't think I really want to know the answer.

So I was in Florida last week, and I mentioned to my mother-in-law (who is a 5-star mother-in-law except for when she spoils her son, Mr. TC, and then I have to re-teach him that cold cereal with milk is too a meal and he better be darn glad for it because those boxes of Raisin Bran don't just jump into the shopping cart by themselves, thankyouverrymuch) that I wanted to visit the nearby outlet mall.

She agreed, saying, "Oh, good. I need to visit the Vanity Fair store to get some new underwear. I just don't know where mine have disappeared to."

I swear I am not making this up. And, yes, I'm concerned. Unfortunately, she didn't have any bridge games while we were there, so I wasn't able to sniff the Chex mix.

Do you think it's a bad thing that I frequently get emails that start with, "I thought about you today..." and then end with a story about boxer shorts?

Like this recent message from Brandi:
"So I thought about you yesterday. I found a pair of boxer shorts lying on top of the electric winch in the driveway. I expostulated*, and Daniel picked them up without comment and put them away...on the floor of his bedroom. Well, maybe you had to be there."

(* If you're looking here for a definition of "expostulated," think again. That's what teenagers with cell phones with a Google app are for. Go ask one of them.)
(* Brandi also lives in a small town in Texas. I imagine the folks down at the Piggly Wiggly grocery get all confused when she comes in and starts throwing her vocabulary around next to the Little Debbie Snack Cake display, 'cause the longest word used in rural Texas is "fixin'tuh." As in, "I'm fixin'tuh write a letter to Jerry Jones and tell him my dead coon tick hound could coach the Cowboys better'n that Wade Phillips fella.")
(* Brandi actually talks like this in real life. She's also one of those overachieving people who, every year on her birthday, does a number of push-ups equivalent to her age, is a published writer, and is taking a Master Gardener course. The reason I have not linked her blog here is because I know some of you will want to go and toilet paper her site, and I can't be responsible for that. Besides, I already tried it myself but she distracted me with big words. So I let my dog expostulate on her lawn when she wasn't looking.)


Brandi Midkiff said...

Hey. I distinctly remember you using the word "besotted" in your blog. And I must confess that I sometimes lose track of my own underwear--but that is only when the child in charge of laundry for the month suffers a profound memory lapse that lasts until my husband runs out of socks.

Anonymous said...

You're the best, Diane!

Linda said...

Hi! I clicked over from Life in a Shoe. She's right, your funny!

My kids are all old enough to keep track of their own laundry. If they can't their out of luck. :) Except my husband who had to take over his own laundry when I got sick. He somehow managed to lose every single one of his expensive diabetic socks. Months later, they still haven't turned up! Yeah, he had to buy all new socks. It is kind of hard to wear work boots with no socks!

Linda @ Linda's Lunacy

Anonymous said...



Crystal said...

Oh, my goodness!! I have not laughed so hard for a very long time ! I came over from Owlhaven and enjoyed the visit immensely. I'm looking forward to visiting - and laughing - again!

Tracie said...

I just found your blog. I have been reading it aloud to my husband. Thanks for all the laughs!!! We are very happy to know that there are other teenage boys that don't know what happened 30 minutes ago!!!

Ginger said...

Mary from Owlhaven posted a link to your blog (appropriately labeled you as hilarious & irreverant, so I had to check it out) and I can't stop laughing! Thanks for the good laugh, can't wait for more!

Angie said...

I am loving your blog. I'll be visiting you when I need a good giggle.

mary.j said...

I just spent a delightful weekend with Brandi and she highly recommended your blog. She's right; it is very fun. I love your hilarious take on life. And, yes, Brandi does talk like that all the time! Keeps the rest of us on our toes.

trinabambina said...

Woman, you slay me!!!! Land of mercy...I am so glad you are back to writing!!! Yours is the ONLY blog that I remember by name and tell all my friends about.

Thanks for the laughs!

Junosmom said...

I suppose if you don't lose a pair of underwear now and again, you aren't really living.

www.thedaleguild.com said...

LOL. i didn't laugh really hard from such a long time, but thanks to your underwear tales.. :D really good one.