Periodically, my wife will get tired of my underwear. I’m not sure why, she never wears them, and it’s not like I make a habit of walking around in my underwear all day. But that just the way things go, she’ll get tired of them. We’ve been married going on three years now, so there are no more arguments over the issue.
It used to be that I could put her off for weeks at a time. Hey there’s nothing wrong with these, I say. And she launch into a tirade of how the elastic is starting to unravel. Or how they’re wearing thin in the back. Or how the crotch part looks shriveled. All things that make them that more comfortable, I’ll say. So I’d win a small reprieve, but not anymore.
Now my wife will come into whatever room I’m in announcing that I need new underwear. As she’s saying this she has a pair of scissors and she systematically cutting up the old ones. If I’m lucky she’ll find a pair or two worth redemption, and I’ll have a day or two to make it to Wal-Mart, if I’m lucky. She did this Sunday, so yesterday I go to Wal-Mart. Don’t forget socks, she says as I depart.
Of course I’m seething with resentment. How dare she, those were my underwear. She cut up my Fruit of the Looms; I loved my underwear, I think as I look at a shrine to underwear. Wow look at all these brands and types, boxers or briefs, or boxer-briefs. In a rainbow of colors too I think, before my resentment returns. I snatch a couple of packs of boxer-briefs and head for the sock isle. I just know that the wife is at home burning all that she can find. I grab a couple of ten packs.
I get home, still ticked, but starting to warm to my purchases. I hope you’re happy, I say to her as I put my stuff away. Do you always have to be so dramatic, she responds, in that irritating half-giggle. Drama; Drama, underwear as a really personal thing woman! Sigh, she’ll never understand, and we go about our lives.
But the next morning an amazing thing happens. I try the underwear on, hey nice soft, snug, not at all like the old ones, which were starting to chafe. I put on the socks; hey these are nice too; soft firm around the calves. Then I do the Tom Cruise dance from Risky Business as I admire myself in the mirror. I guess I did need new underwear, not that I have any intention of telling the wife she was right.
Stuffy
The purchaser of new underwear and socks.
