This is not my first plank story about underwear.  I am not an underwear expert by any means, as you are about to learn.   We have very close friends who live on a street with the name Dusty Bottom Lane.  They once bought Matt a pair of Duluth underwear—definitely the best underwear in the world.  (I don’t sell for them, I just know Matt speaks very  highly of them.)  One day Matt had to climb up into the rafters of our house to hang a curtain.  He went up wearing only in his undies.  He came down, wearing his Duluth boxers and a layer of dust all over his bottom.  I laughed and suggested that: “We have to text a picture of your dusty bottom in the underwear they gave you.”  Without missing a beat Matt responded: “We are not sending anyone a picture.”  Fair enough.  I get that.

So instead I just sent a text: Matt’s bottom is dusty from climbing up in the rafters in his Duluth undies.  He won’t let me send you a pic so neither can you see the underwear you got him or his actual dusty bottom.  SEND

Then I immediately started repeating, “Oh, no. Oh no.”

Matt wondered what the panic was all about.  I accidentally sent that text to a client with the same name as our friend. Luckily she is a super understanding client that I’ve had a long time who has a good sense of humor. But still, pretty poor form on my part. When I informed Matt of the error, he declared, “We are never sexting.”  Good idea.  I concur.

When I told my mom this story, she asked, “Are you guys considering sexting?”

Sadly, that is not the only underwear story we had in our household recently.

Since I tell somewhat embarrassing stories of my family and friends, it seems only fair that I share one of my own.  This morning I woke up and got dressed for my first client.  I’m usually pretty good at getting dressed.  On her first exercise, she mentioned that I had something on my foot.  I looked down to see my underwear.  Sadly, it wasn’t a case where you have underwear or a sock stuck in your pant leg from having done laundry.  When I saw the underwear around my ankle, I immediately realized that was the underwear I thought I’d put on that morning.  I had no underwear on.  The only underwear I was wearing was on my ankle.  I still can’t figure out how this happened.  I get dressed in the dark, but that doesn’t really seem like an excuse. My entire day is spent trying to make people feel, and I couldn’t even tell if I had underwear on.  It seemed like a total fail, except for providing us an exceptional laugh, which I guess is a pretty good way to start a day.  I corrected the error immediately following her class.

 

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