I mean, am I old fashioned to think that it's not such a bigfreakingdeal to flash your crotch to your unsuspecting neighbor, and possibly her infant child?
The thing is, SHE came over to say hello. It's not like I was putting myself out there. I *know* I'm prone to such spastic behavior. But I'd been planting flowers for like 16 days yesterday and so she came over to see if I'd heard "all that cursing come from my front yard."
"Must've been the cats," I told her.
But before I continue, you'll need some back story. Because, yesterday, at about hour 3 of my 16 days of planting, when The Hub was all, "did you put on sunscreen?" I was all, "well, I mean, I wanna get *some* color."
In the end, I was (am) red like rocket, complete with speckles of white where the dirt had stuck to my sweaty, unshaven legs. I mean, I wanted COLOR, not PATTERNS.
Fucking sun apparently has a Tim Gunn complex.
Anyway, when she came over, I started getting twitchy right off the bat because she's super social and I'm a hot, medicated, socially-anxious mess. So after about 30 seconds, I pretty much ran out of things to talk about.
So I lifted my dress to show her my sunburn. And, um, my underwear.
I mean, at least I *think* I showed her my skivvies, based on her pained grimace. (They were *clean* for the record.)
Thank *god* my son ran into the road and nearly collided with a school bus. I think he did it to save me from the awkward silence after the I-just-showed-you-my-undies-how-does-that-make-you-feel-? moment.
Love that kid.
*My mother NEVER told me this. In fact, I think she used to spew some shit about "saving money" and "we can't afford detergent."