Strange Panties
A fairly typical example of conversations at our place (not that my wife finds tons of strange panties lying about)
One afternoon I got home early and started doing the laundry. As I was throwing the clothes into the washer, one of the socks overshot the machine and went down between the wall and the washer, so I grabbed a broom and fished it out, and along with the sock came a pair of black lacy panties. Without thinking, I threw both into the washer, pressed the start button and walked away.
Later that evening I folded the clothes, and put Rina's on her side of the bed, since she has a “system” for dealing with her clean clothes and doesn’t like me going rogue in her drawers. About an hour later I was in Henry's room and she came in looking very unhappy and said pointedly, “I need to talk to you about something.”
I followed her into our bedroom and she stopped in front of the bed where the panties I'd washed were laying on the bed.
She angrily asked, “What are these?”
I must have looked confused and I simply said, “Panties?”
“I know they're panties, but who do they belong to?” she snapped back coldly.
“Um, you?” I said, starting to feel uncomfortable with her tone.
Rina was getting more upset by the moment and said, “These are not my panties.”
“Well, they're not mine!” I said, because by now we’d reached the point in the conversation where I normally start saying stupid things.
Rina didn't say anything else but continued to try to burn a hole through my stomach with her pretend heat vision.
Then, like an idiot I continued digging my own grave and said, “They have to be yours, you're the only one in the house that wears panties!1”
“These don’t fit me!” She said angrily.
Upon hearing this I brilliantly replied, “Well, they don't fit me either!”
“I want to know whose these are,” she said in an accusative tone.
I looked at her cluelessly, and she just turned and walked out. Obviously, I knew what she was implying, but I truly had absolutely no idea how an errant pair of panties could possibly 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 when her family was going through a rough time. They must be hers, most likely lost when she was doing her own laundry.
With this thought in mind, and in keeping with my usual lack of judgment, I texted Kyle’s friend a photo of the panties with a message that read, “Are these your panties?”
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, and so once again it seemed I was either in trouble, or I was about to be.
Around 4:00 a.m., I was awakened by my phone notifying me that I had a text message back from Jessica. It read simply, “Yes those are mine. Thank you.”
Naturally, I was very anxious to clear my name, so I immediately woke up Rina and showed her the message. She sort of groggily looked at the screen, shrugged and handed me my phone, and laid down and went back to sleep.
1. I suppose in theory they could have been Kyle's, but if they were, that was already WAY too much information.