Manties

I have a confession to make: I am addicted to these new spandex under shorts I bought at Target. I LOVE them. And yes, smartasses, they DO make them in a size big enough for a tub of guts like me to pull on. And no, that’s not the reason I have been so silent lately; I was simply busy with the end of the school year. My new drawers have a lovely, silky feel (unlike other spandex I have had occasion to touch) that is reminiscent of a baby’s skin. But that is not the best part about them, not by far. See, they are underwear, right? And spandex, too. All of that combined with the silkiness… well, it’s like giving your goody package a special hug. Allow me to clarify one thing: I do not, and never would, wear them to work or any other place I would expect to encounter the general public. That would just be wrong on so many levels and in so many ways. But I do wear them bike riding (people whizzing by you don’t count as public), and to mow the lawn (screw the neighbors), and sometimes when I sleep (on the rare occasion I wear anything to sleep. Note: I ALWAYS wear something when I am a guest in someone’s home or am sharing a room with other people). I have decided to christen my newfound joy in life manties, a combination of the words man and panties. I don’t expect it to catch on, and could frankly care less if it did as long as I get to keep wearing them.