The Underpants

We’ll Talk About This Photo In A Minute…But First, The UnderPants.

A woman friend comes to my house for tea and company.

She bakes and brings fresh scones with strawberry jam and clobbered cream. The scones are flat when they should be fluffy. They look like flat, pale cookies.

My friend complains her scones are a failure, but in fact they are delicious. In my mind I call them ‘Sccookies’. The word Scone with Cookies. Very cleaver of me.

Maybe we can bake and build a Twinkies kind of mega-corporation off my friend’s Sccookies? Maybe we can become rich and pudgy off our own brilliance?

No, we are not drinking.

My friend wants to swim in my pool in her underpants and tee shirt.

“Good idea,” I say, about the swimming in panties.

I want to swim, too so I run in the house, put on a hot pink sports bra and pull on a pair of neon green nylon shorts. Pulling those shorts up and on is hard work. I have gained weight since last summer.

Finally, the shorts are up, but eeeh gads, they are inside out! They look even worse than they might if they were on proper.

However, they are too much trouble to peel down and re-do as they are so tight I will never get them off. I will have to wear them inside out.

I usually swim naked. I know you know that.

I am always getting into unexpected trouble while naked in the pool. There was that time I heard my old, deaf pool man coming through my iron gate and I banged out of the water so fast that I had to go and see a chiropractor for a twisted back. 

And, of course there was that time I was lying naked by the pool in a comfy lounge chair, all rolled and voluptuous  flesh, my skin like tan velvet; me drifting through the sunny skies in my mind…when I hear…that damn gate open!

Without thought, I jump up to see who’s coming, turn full frontal toward the gate and there is my  handyman who screams and leaps to face the east, his back to me, shouting, “I didn’t see a thing! I didn’t see a thing! I swear to God, I didn’t see a thing!”

My friends, that man couldn’t have missed me.

So, I throw my robe on and sprint into the house, where I run to Bill’s Studio and tell him to go handle whatever it is that Gerry wants as I can’t face him up close.

Bill does.

Gerry wants $25 more for some work he did for me.

I tell Bill to go and tell him that he should be paying me after what just happened.

But, back to the underpants.

My friend is wearing pink cotton underpants that are a bit draggy. They droop down off her butt.

This is why I have not given you my friend’s name. She may not want you to know that she wears droopy drawers and licks her dinner plate when she gets the urge.

 I say, “Just so you know, you may lose those underpants. When my granddaughter was here a few weeks ago, I wore a red pair off cotton panties like those into the pool. When I got out I was really surprised because they seemed to have stretched out all through the legs and bottom.

“I wore them dried out, all day under my skirt and later when Lexi and I were walking to the mailbox, waving to Odd Lee as he drove by, those underpants dropped straight down ‘kerplop’, right around my ankles.

“Lexi, who is 10, shouted ‘BaBa!!’ ” 

When my friend left today, her underpants were all stretched out but she didn’t give them time to dry and drop off her butt. What a pity.

She rolled them up and slung them wet, into a bag of figs I had given her.

So, what about the photo of Jeronamo and his brother-in-law in my back patio? The one where they are laughing about the latest wire job they are doing to contain my cats?

What does that have to do with naked swimming and underpants?

Utterly nothing. I just wanted to show you the latest Cat Drama and frankly, I don’t have a photo of my friend in her underpants.

I have had to catch PollyCat by her tail 4 times as she raced up the wire wrapped around my back patio and nearly went over the top to the Outside where I would never see her again or find her, ever !

I had to call Jeranomo once again and he has put up yet another layer of wire around the patio.

This is not counting the huge, special covered cage for my cats in the front yard.

When my UnderPanted Friend sees the new results on the patio she says, “Venus, why don’t you just wire your entire house in?”

I have a thought. Why don’t I wire in the entire 1 1/4 acres? Then, no one will get in to find me naked and my cats…will never get out.

Why has it taken me so long and so much money to think of this?

Let me go find Jeronamo’s phone number!

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