Facebook Funk

Saturday evening I read a Facebook post from a cousin. She stated that she was in a funk and about to cry…beware. I privately messaged her sharing that I had a procedure done last Wednesday and was feeling very similar. I’m way behind gathering gifts for my grandkids and kids. Usually during the year I collect small personal gifts that I believe will tell them I thought about them as I found the items.

I told my cousin I was thinking of buying socks for everybody just like my wife Cindy and I did for the kids when they were at home. My cousin replied she could always use gift socks. She’d wear socks until she wore them out.

I said I’d share my story of Christmas underwear today. So here it is. One day shortly after Cindy and I were married, she walked into the living room wearing her bra and panties. She was heading to the kitchen for some reason. I couldn’t help but notice that the elastic was separating from the panty material. About 4 inches of bare space was exposed. I said, “Surely we can afford to buy new panties.” She replied, “They’re still good to wear for everyday” and she went on with whatever she was doing.

It wasn’t long until she walked past me again. I reached out, snatched the panty gap, and ripped nearly half the waistband from the panty. “Now they’re not.” Cindy hated to mend. She had a huge stash of safety pins for “emergency repairs.” Temporary often became permanent solutions to hems, bras, and small fixes for clothing. I knew that this pair of panties was beyond pin repair.

She stopped and stared at me, and, said, “Now, you need to buy me new underwear.” Later I searched her underwear drawer to find the label size, then put Cindy’s panties on my Christmas list.

I need to share a bit of background about Cindy and Christmas. She was a snooper. Once wrapped, a gift was fair game. She would shake, poke, and prod it trying to ascertain what was inside. I knew if the panties were to be a surprise, I had to do something special. This was a time when I could cheaply buy a dozen combs of all sizes and colors, including a huge one, packaged in a plastic bag. I opened the panty’s packaging and slipped the combs inside to mask the cottony feel of underwear. Once wrapped in Christmas paper, it changed the dimensions of the underwear. That year this Christmas gift slowly became an obsession until she finally opened them on Christmas morning. Thus the tradition of “panties for Christmas” began.