Going Commando

   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.