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syncope at 06:07pm on 28/08/2011
syncope at 06:07pm on 28/08/2011Hello yankees, I guess you mostly managed to survive a small hurricane? Liz appears to be alive at any rate. I had an excuse to talk to Dru and have her amuse me, as well.
I have a bag of underwear hanging off the doorknob to my bedroom. I came home to this a few days ago. There's one pair of sweat pants and about twenty pairs of underwear in the plastic (which I am pretty annoyed about considering how many reusable bags I've purchased and given away) bag.
This is just another event in the long history of my mother's obsession with my underwear. Everyone's probably experienced the old joke of your mom telling you to wear clean underwear in case of car accident or other emergency. Not my mom.
*ring, ring*
Me: Hello?
Mom: What do your underwear look like? Are they ratty?
Me: Seriously? I'm in the middle of something...
Mom: I bought you some new pairs. You need new bras. You need to go to Kohl's.
Life-long.
I have no idea how she developed this fixation, if it's some weird latent self-hatred generated by being a second wave feminist or if she's just seen too many dirty panties working in healthcare. I DO NOT CARE *WHY* SHE IS SO NUTS, JUST THAT SHE IS.
At any given time, I have 5-10 pairs of unworn underwear sitting in my drawer(s). I mostly never wear the ones she buys because she buys styles I hate.
Me: Mom, I wear boys shorts, please buy those.
Mom: They come in PACKS with strange patterns. I never know if you'll like them.
Me: I will like them more than the granny panties you keep buying.
Mom: Do you know how hard it is to find white underwear that are anything but?
Here's the current rub: I have to wear white underwear because of my scrubs. (Don't even get me started.) I had NONE, not even a white bra, until a few months ago. Now mom seems to have a focus and legitimacy to her crazy underwear obsession. SHE'S BUYING UNDERWEAR FOR A CAUSE!
Right now I have a bag full of underwear I'll never wear hanging off my doorknob. I think I should just start dropping them in the charity clothes boxes.
I have a bag of underwear hanging off the doorknob to my bedroom. I came home to this a few days ago. There's one pair of sweat pants and about twenty pairs of underwear in the plastic (which I am pretty annoyed about considering how many reusable bags I've purchased and given away) bag.
This is just another event in the long history of my mother's obsession with my underwear. Everyone's probably experienced the old joke of your mom telling you to wear clean underwear in case of car accident or other emergency. Not my mom.
*ring, ring*
Me: Hello?
Mom: What do your underwear look like? Are they ratty?
Me: Seriously? I'm in the middle of something...
Mom: I bought you some new pairs. You need new bras. You need to go to Kohl's.
Life-long.
I have no idea how she developed this fixation, if it's some weird latent self-hatred generated by being a second wave feminist or if she's just seen too many dirty panties working in healthcare. I DO NOT CARE *WHY* SHE IS SO NUTS, JUST THAT SHE IS.
At any given time, I have 5-10 pairs of unworn underwear sitting in my drawer(s). I mostly never wear the ones she buys because she buys styles I hate.
Me: Mom, I wear boys shorts, please buy those.
Mom: They come in PACKS with strange patterns. I never know if you'll like them.
Me: I will like them more than the granny panties you keep buying.
Mom: Do you know how hard it is to find white underwear that are anything but?
Here's the current rub: I have to wear white underwear because of my scrubs. (Don't even get me started.) I had NONE, not even a white bra, until a few months ago. Now mom seems to have a focus and legitimacy to her crazy underwear obsession. SHE'S BUYING UNDERWEAR FOR A CAUSE!
Right now I have a bag full of underwear I'll never wear hanging off my doorknob. I think I should just start dropping them in the charity clothes boxes.
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