I am going commando today as my last pair of underwear bit the dust. The elastic gave way.
"Oh, I dread going to Walmart to get you more," dad said over the phone. "Come over and get your Cokes and cigarettes while I think."
I headed to my father's house and was there in just a few minutes.
"Fred's just down the street has men's underwear," I told my father upon arriving. "Let me call them and make sure."
"You sure?" dad asked with a skeptics mind.
I looked up the number in the phone book. A lady told me over the phone that they did indeed have men's underwear.
"Can you go commando until tomorrow?" dad asked and I said yes.
He was so relieved he didn't have to go to Walmart and could just drive down the street. He was doubly surprised that I would make such a call with my phone phobias. He accused me of being hyper and on a Martha high.
"You've got it in your genes!" dad said laughing. "You know it is true!"
Yes, I was on a Martha high. I calmed down some and got a big plate of Christmas leftovers and my diet Cokes/cigarettes and headed home before any more accusations could be made. I had some barbecue pork roast to share with Maggie and me.
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