Punkin's blog: "Good for a laugh"

It was a typical day of household chores, consisting of dishes, laundry, and general tidying up.  I was off to a great start, getting a lot more done than I would have expected, when my day AND my mood came to a crashing hault.  That's when I found it...a tiny little offensive item, right there, staring at me.  I opened the door to the dryer and out fell a small black "hoochy mamma" type thong...most importantly, one I did not recognize.

Before going too far into this story, I have a history of catching previous cheating spouses by washing some other woman's underware. I also have a history of finding myself with men who have a closet habit of cross dressing.  In either case....UM NO.

First thought: "No, his package wouldn't fit into THAT, so I really don't think it's his"

Second thought "Have I purchased any new hooker underware I may have forgotten about?"

Third Thought "Do I REALLY have to walk into the living room and ask my spouse whose panthies these are AGAIN?!"

Deep breath....rapid flashing thoughts....anger....self pity....anger....anger....breathe in and out...forcing the calm....

"Honey, I found these in the wash, and they are NOT mine.  Do you know who they belong to?"

He looks up from the TV "Nope...maybe they are the ex's"

Ok, so not the response I wanted.  IS THERE an acceptable response?  At least he wasn't a smartass at the moment...smart man.

More deep breathing...back to folding clothes. 

Don't think about it.  DON'T THINK ABOUT IT.

Fuck.

Could my kid have dragged home a pair of my ex's new girlfriend's panties?  Could he have planted them?!

I'm getting paranoid.  Quit thinking about it!

"I'm going for a smoke"

"Ok, I'll join you."

Random chit chat that I don't remember...I was too busy stewing....

"Look, if you say that you don't know where they came from, I will believe you.  This is just REALLY shitty dejavu for me."

"Yeah, kinda like if i came home and found a condom wrapper on the floor.  You don't have to worry. I promise."

Fast forward to meeting up with the ex to take our son trick-or treating...

"Hey ______...odd question, but what kind of panties does your girlfriend wear?"

Him - "What?!" *laughter*  "Um, I dunno.  Why?"

"Well, I came across a pair of underware I don't recognize, and thought maybe the kid brought them home with his stuff"

"No, she doesn't keep any of her stuff here.  That's really fucked up."

"Sorry...thought I'd ask"

"Um ok"

Fast forward again....I break my finger while out trick or treating...yes I'm that talented.

I come home and ask for some help with my hand, then get the kid to bed.  We resume our earlier conversation.

"I just wish I knew where those underware came from."

"Well, the ex didnt have any like that, but they looked about her size"

"Um, no.  These are like stripper panties....or panties that come with some fancy lingerie...not your everyday wear.  And your ex  was too small for these."

"Wait...you say they sometimes come with lingerie?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, we DID just order 2 halloween costumes from that lingerie store online..."

"Oh my fucking god...you're right.  Ok, I'm a douche.  Sorry honey"

"Its ok.  I'll be laughing over this for awhile."

"You're welcome.  I feel like shit"

"I know.  You felt so bad you broke your finger."

Several months ago, I came across a joke called "Waxing Woes", and up until now, I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever read.  I couldn't believe someone could possibly be so spazmatic or idiotic...until now.

Tonight, I decided to do a little "routine maintenance" in the nether region, and started the prep for the project.  I got out the waxing kit, laid out the appropriate sized strips, baby powder (to keep wax from sticking to the skin - OUCH), and appropriate tools.  I took the lid off of the hot wax and placed it into the microwave.

For those of you who do regular waxing treatment, you know what a pain it is to run back n forth to the microwave as the wax begins to cool, constantly reheating for ultimate hair removal.  Tonight, I had the "brilliant idea" of getting it EXTRA hot in the first place to skip having to do this (the start of my idiocy).  I set the microwave for 5 minutes, and walk away, intending to check on the wax every minute or so until desired temperature. 

As I'm easily distracted, 30 seconds after placing this into the microwave, I walk away and completely forget about the wax.  I go out for a smoke, and come in to realize that the microwave is beeping at me.  I think I had a cup of coffee heating, and to my surprise, when I open the door, HOT WAX ALL OVER!  The container melted...wax running all over the inside of the microwave (This stuff bubbles and pops when its REALLY hot).

So what's the knee-jerk reaction to this sort of discovery...the one thing you DONT want to do?  That's right...I GRAB the jar of wax with my bare hand.  Not only does it burn the living hell outta me, but it also STICKS, making it impossible to drop.  So I stand in my kitchen...dancing and cursing, then dash madly to the sink and run cold water over both outside of the jar AND my hand.

What happens to wax when you suddenly cool it?  It SETS.  Now, I can't let go without possibly pulling off already sensitive, burned skin.  Luckily, I remember the wax removal lotion, and promptly rub it over my skin to release the jar.  I stand for a moment, shaking my head at my own idiocy, and evaluating the mess I now have to attempt to clean up.

I look in the jar, and there's still some wax in the bottom, even though most of the jar is melted.  Being the frugal person that I am, I curse myself for ruining a brand new kit, and decide to attempt to salvage what is left, so I head to the bathroom to continue the original plan.

I stir the remaining wax, apply baby powder to the sensitive area of my groin, and spread some of the hot liquid across some of the most sensitive skin on my body, only to find that the WAX IS STILL TOO HOT!  FUCK..SHIT..OH MY BLOODY HELL!!!  What NOW?!  The removal lotion is still in the kitchen, and this burns WAY too much to wait. 

I quickly lay a strip across the offending wax, and RIP!  Oh, no worries...the hair came out.  My skin is now a nice shade of fire engine red, but at least its still in tact.  I take a few breaths, and decide to let the stuff cool a bit before continuing.

Remember, I'm easily distracted.  I decide to switch over some laundry while I wait. I then promptly forget all about the wax...AGAIN...and go on to fold and put away said laundry.  I only remember the wax when I head back to the bathroom to pee...and by now, its the consistency of a gel.  FUCK.  I can't reheat it.  The jar is already melted, and the microwave is still a mess.  So what now?  

I attempt to use the cooled wax to finish the job...thereby reddening my skin, leaving 3/4 of the hair behind, and making a huge, sticky mess in the process...At this point, I give up, climb into the shower, and wrecklessly shave the remaining offending hair.  

Never again will I laugh at someone's spazmatics...Well, I'm sure I will, but at least I might know a bit better than to think it "won't happen to me".