We have a lot of underwear at our house. A LOT. I buy it in bulk at garage sales. I know, some of you are probably totally repulsed by the thought of wearing something that once touched a stranger's unmentionables, but I don't buy the stained ones and I always wash them in really hot water and often bleach before I place them in the big basket-o-underwear in the girls' room. Oh, yeah. I'm talking lil girlie underwear here....NOT grown woman underwear. For that I splurge on the free pair Victoria's Secret continues to offer me in an attempt to make me drop a hund-o on a bra. Sha! As if! Back to the topic....lots of underwear. If I find nice clean underwear at a garage sale for 5 or 10 cents, I pick it up. In the past, most likely one of the girls was on the potty train or about to hitch a ride on the potty train, and for some of the messier accidents I found it was much less stressful to just throw away a pair of cheap underwear than to spend my precious time scrubbing out the poo stain. And on hectic weeks like this one when I just might be a tidge backed up on the laundry, the girls are at least guaranteed a clean pair of skivies. So yes, lots of underwear.
I keep this underwear in a big basket in the girls' room. For the most part, the girls can each distinguish the pairs that fit them, but unfortunately Gwen keeps getting into them to either try them on, throw them in the air like confetti, or both. Consequently, it's not uncommon to find close to a hundred pairs of underwear all over their bedroom floor on a given day. The state of this room is a battle I have chosen not to fight, but when we are having company I make an attempt to help the younger ones pick up a bit, which involves picking up a lot of underwear.
My dilemma comes from having to decipher the clean confettied underwear from the "I forgot to throw it into the dirty laundry" underwear. Sadly enough, I have yet to find a more reliable way to determine the cleanliness of each pair of underwear other than sticking my nose right down into the crotch of each and every pair and inhaling deeply. Of course, I'm occasionally assaulted by the scent of lil "I don't always remember to wipe" girlie booty and for some strange reason it always reminds me of the following verse.
I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.