Shaming the Family

I spent a good deal of my day in Canton today, first at a doctor's office, then lunch (I call it lunch instead of dinner cause it was out to eat and it was not The Cracker Barrel), and then Daughter pleaded to go into Target and look at a jacket she had seen upon her last visit several weeks ago and had been coveting ever since.

She now had some money in her pocket and was set on buying that jacket. I warned her I couldn't stay in there very long, because I had to be in fairly good shape (low pain) to make any sense when I got to my publisher's.

Somewhere on the way toward the coveted jacket, I would have made my granny ashamed of me. I didn't know it at the time, at least give me that.

You see, I've been in dire need of some new drawers. I guess all mine are wearing out at the same time because they were all purchased at the same time. Anyway, I saw a shelf as we passed by, and on the way back out I purchased a pack of three.

They are good drawers. They actually come up to my waist and circle my legs snugly, instead of looping way up toward my appendix. I've never liked low slung drawers, at least not since I've weighed more than a house cat. I see a lot of women (and girls, too) who could benefit from wearing some "granny panties". They wear a sleek dress and you can see every hump and bump. If they would wear drawers up to their waist, it would smooth a lot of that mess out.

Anyway, after my publisher's meeting, we went on home, where I tried to die, as I felt like I was going to anyway. But an hour of bed rest helped some, so here I am, not dead.

I decided to open the pack of panties and read washing instructions, etc.

They are guaranteed to stay in great shape, wash after wash, which is good. It says no problem to put them in the dryer, either.

But then it said: Do NOT iron.

Oh, lord.

Granny always ironed her drawers.

I'm going back to bed and cover my head up with the quilt. Perhaps, since she's in Heaven, she'll forgive me.

I promise to read the instructions before purchasing next time - but I still ain't gonna iron them suckers, and that's not the point. The point, at least in Granny's eyes, was that everyone would at least assume your drawers was ironed.

Ah, Granny. I don't even iron my shirts. I think they have been on to me for a long, long time.

But  you still love me, don't you, Granny?

Granny?