How my underwear saved a marriage

My phone rang in between the time I dropped my kids at school and the start of my yoga class. My friend got right to the point.

“Do you, by any chance, wear Calvin Klein size M underwear?”

I thought back to the last time I bought undies, trying to remember my size. It was Costco, probably sometime in 2008.

“Why, yes I do.” I began to get excited. My friend is well-connected, and I was wondering if she was passing on to me a bloggy review for Calvin Klein. Although, had I taken the notion a bit further, I would have thought it odd that there would be such specific size qualifications.

“OH THANK G*D!!” I heard her sign deeply, and I could tell, across the miles, that a big gob of stress just left her body.

Does this mean I don’t get free underwear? I thought. Silently.

“I found some women’s underwear in my husband’s bag this morning,” my friend spilled. “While I was getting the children ready for school, I advised them in my head to give Daddy a big hug now because they’d never see him again. I was halfway to changing the locks. And, simultaneously planning to gather the kids after school and go far far away.”

Slowly I started to understand. MY underwear — worn — were out there in public. Horrors! And they were linked with her husband. What!?

I tried to put the pieces together while she continued to tell me her thought processes since the discovery. In the back of my mind I tried to remember if I had an af.fair with her husband.


But I WAS using half my brain to figure out how my undies got in his bag.

Which I must have said aloud.

“When you visited me” she reasoned, “you took an overnight trip-within-a-trip to another friend’s. Remember we loaned you the bag so you didn’t have to take your suitcase?”

Aaaaah! The pieces began to fill in. Clearly, I hadn’t completely emptied the borrowed bag when I returned to her house. Again, horrors!*

I try to be a low-impact guest. I try to make sure that I don’t leave my stuff around the house when I am a visitor. I clean up after myself. I try not to leave a trace.

I left a big trace this time. Size M, to be precise. And it gave Melissa and her emotions a terrible, horrible, no good rollercoaster ride.

Ultimately, Melissa was relieved that I’d left my panties there — as relieved as I was horrified.

We hung up so I could go to yoga. And so she could cancel the locksmith.

* at least it was a non-ratty pair.

Image: (not the actual pair in question)

36 thoughts on “How my underwear saved a marriage”

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  3. Me, too, Loribeth! As awful as it was for me to think that others were seeing my undies, it was even more awful for her those few hours.

  4. It’s funny and scary all at the same time! Oh, how I long for the days when this booty was still a size five….

  5. What a crazy, crazy, crazy morning!
    And as I said on Mel’s post- clearly next visit you need to go commando.

  6. Oh LOZ.

    Mate, I just left a comment over at Mels. I love the two of you so much … reading both of your posts just now was like when they have a Greys Anatomy/Private Practice crossover.

    Thank GOD they weren’t a really old, beige pair with holes in them. Then you’d have to deny they were yours. Or worse …. ADMIT they were yours.

    I can. Not. Wait. To be standing in a corner of BlogHer with you and Mel chatting and laughing OH MY GOD.


    PS Awesome posts, from both of you.

  7. I’m SO glad it turned out as it did. On Mel’s blog, I told the story of how this has happened to two of my female friends…but their spouses actually cheated on them or were pretty darn close.

    The kicker is that I also knew the “other woman” in both situations. It’s a small town…and I was brought into the middle of both situations. YUCK!

    Both couples are still married to their respective spouses and even though it was tough for a while, their marriages are stronger than ever.

    Sorry you had to admit that the non-lacy panties were yours…but I’m glad you did. Now I know what to get you for your birthday (correct size and all).

  8. By my birthday I’ll be due for some more undies for sure.

    Maybe sooner if I continue to leave a trail across the country.

  9. I can’t believe Mel is sending them back to you without washing them first.

    One of DH’s friends left his underwear under the bed last time he was here. We didn’t want to touch them (if you knew the guy you’d agree), so without touching them directly we got them into the washer and turned the dial to HOT.

  10. you must have such a small butt!
    that was my second reaction.
    the first was I can’t believe that happened to you OR mel.

  11. LOL…Lori….love love love the post.

    I would have turned a blushing turnip to have found my underwear in somebody else’s husband’s stuff.

    This story is for keeps! And something to laugh on for years!

    P.S. this is a secret….but I love your new abode. Congrats on moving to self-hosting.

  12. I would also have been pretty freaked out about my underpants in with friend’s husband’s things…but probably not as freaked out as finding someone’s underpants in my husband’s things.

    I love the title, also.

    Note to self:  when houseguesting, no affairs with man of the house, and no leaving underpants behind.  Thanks, Lori, for helping us all to remember to check our bags a couple of dozen times just to be sure. 🙂

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