My mom thinks of herself as an efficiency expert. When she was living by herself, she never put anything away. The dirty dishes go in the sink. When there are no more clean dishes, she puts everything in the dishwasher. The clean dishes remain there until there is no more and the cycle repeats. Because this drives my dad nuts, she would sometimes put things away.
Her clothes are a different story however. For that she still employs the same system. The dirty clothes go in the floor. When she has no more clothes, they go to the washer. Clean, they stay at the dirty clothes hamper. Everything was fine until I started not being afraid of my mom’s pile of dirty clothes.
My dad started finding my mom’s underwear in his office. Then in my bed. In the living room. He started cracking down on my mom – he is afraid that either I would swallow them or choke on them. My mom is mad because now she will be forced to put her clothes away.
I wish she wouldn’t. I like having my security panties. They have the best ever olfactory-high to surface area ratio. It makes me feel like she is still with me wherever I go, that I am not really alone. I would settle for the big granny ones, even if they are heavier. I hope.
Life Lesson: One woman’s dirty panties is another dog’s dirty panties.