Not the panties in question.      (c) Peloponnesian Folklore Foundation

A few weeks ago I got home in the afternoon and started doing the laundry. As I was throwing clothes into the washer, one of the socks overshot the machine and went down between the wall and the washer. I grabbed a broom and fished it out, and along with the sock I found a pair of lacy black panties. I threw both into the washer without thinking and hit the start button and walked away.

That evening I folded the clothes, and put Rina’s on her side of the bed. About an hour later I was in Henry’s room and she came in looking serious and said, “I need to talk to you about something.” And thus we began another one of our typical conversations.

I followed her into our room and she stopped in front of the bed where the panties I’d washed lay on the bed.

Rina: “What are these?”

I looked confused and slowly said,

Matt: “Panties?”

Rina: “I know they’re panties, but who do they belong to?”

Matt: “Um, you?”

Rina: “These ARE NOT my panties.”

Then I started saying stupid things:

Matt: “Well, they’re not mine!”

Rina didn’t say anything but continued to try to burn a hole through my stomach with her pretend heat vision.

Matt: “They have to be yours, you’re the only one in the house that wears panties!*”

Rina: “These do not fit me!”

Matt: “Well, they don’t fit me!”

Rina: “I want to know whose these are.”

I looked at her cluelessly, and she just turned and walked out. Obviously, I knew what she was implying, but I had no idea how an errant pair of panties could have ended up in her laundry pile. Then I had a thought; one of Kyle’s friends had stayed with us a few weeks before and they had to be hers, probably lost when she was doing her own laundry.

So, in keeping with my usual lack of judgment I texted Jessica, the gal in question, a photo of the panties with a message that read, “Are these yours?”

Of course, right after I sent it I realized I’d just texted a 20-year-old woman I hardly knew a photo of lacy panties late at night. So now it seemed I was either in trouble, or I was gonna be. At 4:00 a.m. I got a text back from Jessica that simply said, “Yes those are mine. Thank you.”

I immediately woke up Rina and showed her the message, anxious to clear my name, and she sort of groggily looked at the screen, shrugged and handed my phone back and laid back down and went back to sleep.

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*I suppose in theory they could have been Kyle’s, but if they were, that was already WAY too much information.