Under Where

I have a pair of underpants that were either designed by someone without a penis or someone with an odd sense of humor.  Or both. They do not have the traditional flap in the front thru which to air my privates. For obvious reasons I rarely wear them.

 

When I approached the urinal this morning to alleviate one of the symptoms of having imbibed more than a quart of water and a couple cups of coffee, I was unable to locate the opening in my undershorts. I naturally assumed I had accidentally donned the aforementioned defective undies. I dropped my trousers to a level closer to my knees than my waist, and sought relief the best I could. Since I have the bladder of a small child, I have been repeating the process frequently throughout the day. On one occasion I even held an conversation with a fellow coworker regarding Crosby’s hat trick while in the semi-clothed throes of urination. I can only hope it was as awkward for him as it was for me.

 

So on a very recent expedition, I was more than a little surprised when I looked down during the aiming/prelaunch procedure, and discovered what appeared to be a tag on the waistband of what my daughters call “panties”. It looked like a tag normally located at the back of one’s trousers. As casually as a person could in a public restroom, I reached down the rear of my pants and groped around that side of my undershorts. I found my fly.

 

Turns out I am wearing my underwear both backwards and inside out. I’m sure I’ve done this before, just not since I was about six. I’m certain I’ll do it again, hopefully not until after I start the swingers club in the old folks home.

 

Today I’m leaving work a little early to make the trick-or-treat activities at home. I only have about an hour left. I’m inclined to leave my shorts bunched up just like they have been all day long. No one seems to have noticed, or at least no one has mentioned anything. I haven’t been in any pain. I think I’ll ride this one out for today. I’ll try to do a little better tomorrow.