As some of you may have read from Gluby's exuberant comments on other blogs, we ordered some new underwear for me a couple of weeks ago. The whole situation actually started about two months ago when Gluby asked:
G: Honey, when do you think you'll stop wearing your garments?
LB: Probably when I am ready to realize that the church isn't true and that I no longer want to be a member. Why?
G: Just wondering. I hate those things. (He pauses for a moment.) Hey, what size do you wear?
LB: I have no idea, I haven't bought any for over 10 years. (Now it's my turn to pause.) No, you are not going to buy them for me. I am perfectly capable of buying myself underwear.
G: I'll even take the boys so they won't be in your hair. It'll be fun!
LB: Yes, I'm sure it will. (sigh) I can see it now. “Hey, son, what do you think of this pair of underwear for Mama?” And you'll probably come home with thongs. Yah, that's what I want to do, go from total coverage to anal floss. No thanks, I'll go buy myself my own underwear.
Three weeks later I get an instant message on my laptop from Gluby in the other room while I am studiously (ah, right) preparing for an upcoming geology final exam.
LB: Excuse me?
G: Take a look at the link I just sent. (It's a link to Victoria's Secret web page filled with semi-anorexic, airbrushed women modeling shockingly small, vibrantly colored underwear.)
LB: Um, thanks. I wanted to look at half naked women. How'd you know?
G: What color do you want?
LB: Hm, I didn't know they were selling the women, but any color is fine with me as long as she's the housewife.
G: Very nice, dear. What color of underwear do you want?
I protest that now isn't the time, I'm studying, I haven't decided about church stuff yet, blah, blah, blah. But, when Gluby is excited about something it takes a bulldozer to get him to change direction.
So, we spent the next two hours picking out colors and types of underwear. The order form gave the approximate arrival date as the 16th of December. He hated to wait so long, but he was excited and even wrote “PANTY DAY!” in big, bold letters on the calendar. On Tuesday (yesterday), I had just gotten home from taking our oldest out for a special “mama date” when I saw the mailbox overflowing with envelopes and what could only be panty packages. Gluby was so thrilled he had me try them on right away. It was like Christmas Day at our house yesterday. (And he is a super-grinch when it comes to holidays.)
The ironic thing is that, the very next morning, his sister sent us some pictures of the cookies she and her fiancee made last night. “Butt cookies” with underwear frosting. Nice.
We had a good laugh, especially since she is in Canada, had no idea about the whole underwear thing in the first place (no one did), and has never done anything of the sort before. It was a total random coincidence.
I did keep a pair of the new undies on the rest of the day and even wore them all day today. It feels really weird physically. Not as much bulk under my jeans, no elastic that goes up to my ribcage, no material to keep my thighs from rubbing together when I wear a dress without nylons, no pulling up my jeans to put the garments back in their place.
I am not sure how I feel about it emotionally yet. I feel like this whole experience is happening in a movie and at the end I'll turn it off, go to bed, and wake up to read scriptures with my family (not that we have done that in the last 5 years, but a girl can dream).
In fact, this morning Gluby asked me if I was still wearing them. I said yes. I did warn him, though, that I might not keep them on all day. He nodded understandingly and said that no matter what underwear I choose to wear right now, it is fine and he is proud of me for everything I have faced over the last few months -- although I think it may be more accurate to describe it as a painstakingly-avoided-until-I-can-no-longer-ignore-it kind of facing.
Personally, I think he's just trying to get me out of my new panties.