Panties

First and foremost - you do NOT want to know what kind of underwear I wear, do NOT read this blog.

Last weekend we went to St. Louis for Fall Break.  Ryan headed to work Thursday morning and I dropped Emmy off at school and then packed my bag as well as the bags for all four kids.  I then packed the van with every conceivable item we might need for a three day weekend and then I picked Emmy up from preschool and Ryan up from work and we drove to St. Louis.

Our hotel was at the airport....right across from a Hustler Boutique.  At first I thought it was a strip club but no....just a very classy looking 'Fredricks of Hollywood' type of store.  And it was huge.  This tidbit is important for later in the story.

Normally I overpack on the panty front.  I worry about running out.  But on the second day into our weekend, I realized I was short a pair.  Between the time crunch and packing for five people, I shorted myself a pair.  And no - I'm not the kind of girl who will wear a pair twice, inside out, or wash them with that cheap ass hotel bar soap. And I don't do commando. So this left me with option of buying a new pair.  The day was long and the kids were crabby and I was tired and we ate dinner at 8pm and went back to the hotel and I desperately searched the little hotel convenienve store for panties.  White tighties  - yes.  Panties - no.

Ryan graciously offered to run out and find a Wal-Mart.  I put the kids to bed and watched tv and much to my suprise, Ryan was gone only about 20 minutes.  In he came with a bag from Hustler.  Oh how I laughed.  Let me tell you - when you have four kids and your entire job is keeping them safe, loved, and shaping them into future people you're proud to brag about....you can feel frumpy, tired, and fugly.  So the bag alone made me smile.

Now I obviously wasn't there so here is what Ryan told me.  He walked in and asked a guy if they had any normal women's panties.  The guy said something like what do you mean by normal.  And really - given the sexual appitite of sports players, politicians, and the average Joe, it really is a valid question.  Apparently there was a big sign in the store that also said "Relax, it's just sex."  Oh how I wish I could have been a fly on that wall.

So Ryan bought me two pairs of 'normal' panties.  I let him choose which one I wore b/c he was awesome enough to go out after a long day to the Hustler store and score me some panties.  (Sarah - if you are reading this, stop).  The panties.....a leather g-string.

Yup.  And actually pretty comfortable.  I wore them all day.  Even when we got home and I had access to all my regular panties.  It made me smile.  I might be a worn out mother of four...but my husband bought me a leather g-string. 

Fast forward to Monday, I'm gathering up dirty laundry and I throw the new panties on top of the basket only to notice the 'care label.'  Dry clean only.  I about fell on the floor laughing.  Seriously?  Sure - I'll send Ryan in with his suit to dry clean, oh and my leather g-string.  That visual picture alone makes me smile.

Sometimes it's the little things that make my world totally awesome.