I’m completely out of anything that might be considered “nice,” underwear.
That’s right, last week while shopping–grocery shopping–with my friend Lisa, I plucked a pack of white no-name underpants off the display and bought them.
I think I saw her cringe as I did, though she didn’t SAY she thought it was an odd grocery store purchase.
But it was only today as I sorted the laundry that I found myself rifling through my drawer, white cotton Hanes here, a generic flowered pair there, old maternity pair buried at the bottom.
No, no, no.
Hadn’t I even been awake the last four years I had been getting dressed?
Oh, yeah. I wasn’t awake.
Barely, maybe, sometimes.
How had I fallen so far in so few years?
Alas, this post could go in Calm Before The Stork, but really, this is simply another weakness in my Housewife persona–Lost in a Sea of Cotton…Will I ever return to the shores of Victoria’s Secret? Will Bill withstand the drought? Stay tuned.