Please Remove My Granny Panties

Granny Panties
Granny Panties
Granny Panties

I’m ashamed to say it.  I can’t believe it myself.  But the following words actually came out of my mouth the other night just before I went to bed.  “Dear, if I die during the night, would you please kindly remove my socks and my granny panties before they come take me away?” To his credit, my husband affirmed my request without further comment.

Also to my husband’s credit, he is the least vain person I have ever met.  He’s neat and well groomed, but he could care less about gray hairs and wrinkles.  I, on the other hand, am afflicted with the vanity gene.  I fuss with my hair and make-up, match my jewelry to my outfit, and like to wear matching bras and panties.  I’ve tried over the years not to “let myself go.”

Even when I get in bed at night, I don’t want to feel like an old biddy by wearing sweats and a t-shirt.  My birthday suit is just fine with me if I’m home, and a nightgown is acceptable if I’m in the company of others.

But alas, there are certain times of the month and the year, when my birthday suit just won’t do, and who wants to wear their pretty lace panties to bed when there’s a good probability you’ll wake up with a stain on them.  So granny panties it is.

Then there are those nights when even the electric blanket won’t warm up my feet.  Thus, on go the thick warm socks.

So you can understand my dismay when I found myself going to bed with both the other night: socks and granny panties.  How embarrassing it would be to have lived a lifetime of bedtimes in the raw, or at the very least in a pretty nightgown, only to find my last night on earth with socks and granny panties.

Thank God for husbands who understand these things.

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5 thoughts on “Please Remove My Granny Panties”

  1. This was like reading a post about myself! I have a love-hate relationship with my granny panties and have kept them because Mother Nature refuses to stop tormenting me with her visits. My husband thinks I’m ridiculous and that the last thing the paramedics will care about is my underwear but he has graciously agreed to maintain my dignity in the event of my untimely demise 🙂

    Loved this!

  2. I can honestly say I don’t own grannie panties but I do wear a bite guard each night which makes wearing a tattered t-shirt seem like a neglige. Yes,Leslie, thank God for understanding husbands!

  3. As one of the oldest Baby Boomers, I learned early in my adulthood that letting myself go could be a lot of fun. I have not completely un-learned that lesson, even though wiser heads than mine have tried hard to make me over. I consider myself “put together” when my colors match or complement each other and I have taken the wrinkles out (unless I am wearing crinkle fabric, of course).

    I’m not all that fussy about housework, either. This is funny, because my maternal grandmother was one of those people who never had anything out of place and whose house was so clean you were almost afraid to walk on her floors! My mother didn’t inherit the organized and neat gene, and neither did I.

  4. A tip I learned from a Flannery O’Connor story: Always wear white gloves. That way whenever you’re found dead, everyone will know you’re a lady.

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