Or, at least ask her permission before I share stories about her on the world wide web.
Okay, here's another story about my mom.
Late one night, I hear a knock on my door:
Do you have any new underwear?
I forgot to do laundry today
and I ran out of underwear.
Um, Mama, I don't think you want
to borrow my underwear.
Because this is all I have.
Maybe you want to go commando?
Which way is the front and which is the back?
The string goes between your butt cheeks.
Like butt floss.
The next morning, we had this exchange:
How did the underwear go?
Was it uncomfortable?
I woke up early today to do laundry.
I don't think my mom will be asking to borrow* my underwear again anytime soon.
*Took, my mom took my brand new thong, but borrow sounds...much better?