Recently a dear friend in animal rescue joked on FB about being so behind in laundry she had to borrow a pair of her sons underwear on that particular morning. I’m sure he’s scarred for life….lol…. and of course there ensued what you’ve probably already guessed.. a hilarious back and forth among commenters about the virtues of underwear… or not wearing any – a/k/a “Going Commando”.
A hilarious take on this can be seen here.. one of my favorite moments in the old sitcom, “Friends”.
I happen to be one of those people who really can’t imagine going out of the house without underwear. You might laugh at this, but I don’t think there has ever been a time when I did NOT have underwear on unless in the shower, the tub, having s*x or wearing a bathing suit. I’m not pointing any judgemental fingers at those who prefer to go Commando… I’m just sayin…it doesn’t work for me.
My grandmother lived on the Florida panhandle for a period of time. During one particular visit, we were in the company of a lovely neighbor, a southern lady of about 90 years. Virginia had a velvety southern drawl so thick, my grandmother could hardly understand it. She also had a lovely beach bungalow filled with southern charm, and she walked briskly around the house in floral summer dresses with the ease of someone much younger. I have no idea how we got on the subject… but out of her mouth with exuberance came words I will never forget. “It’s good to walk around without the hindrance of underwear. You have to let your parts breathe!”.
I nearly spit out my sweet tea.