Some years ago, my husband suggested we go to a fancy dinner dance at the club. Yay! A new dress, nails done, hair done, pretty, pretty, pretty me.
I began the day with a fresh outlook. I was pampered and excited for an evening of dining and dancing. My husband and I love to dance, and it had been a while since we danced the night away.
In the spirit of thinking everyone deserved some fun, I wore that rarely seen sexy thong underwear in the back of my dresser drawer. I kind of hate thongs. They are so darn uncomfortable. But under certain circumstances I must agree, thongs fit the bill. First, the dress looked ever so much better with no panty line. Second, my husband deserved a little fantasy. Which was probably the closest he would get to fantasy because if the evening went the way I thought it would, he would be a bit tipsy, we would both be exhausted from dancing, and we would fall into bed and be snoring a duet within minutes upon our return home.
So off to the ball we went. Cinderella (that’s me…code name caregiver) danced with her Prince Charming to every single song they played. Fast, slow, samba, mamba, polka, it didn’t matter. If music was playing, we were dancing.
Oh my, so much fun. I hydrated constantly. I was the designated driver, but I didn’t want to wake up to a dehydration headache. Recovery gets harder and harder. At some point in time, I decided a trip to the loo was in order. I went to the ladies room feeling, hot (as in sexy) confident, happy and just darn groovy.
I entered the stall hiked up my dress, go to pull down my panties. Hmmm. I remember just then I’m wearing that darn thong, and gee, I didn’t feel the need to grab my own ass the entire night. It is then that I see I have come across a new invention. I am wearing my thong sideways.
Do it all the time now. Too comfortable to go back to tradition.