What with the brouhaha surrounding Thanksgiving and having the daughter home for the weekend and all, I forgot to do laundry.

I didn't realize the potential tragedy I had let myself in for until I opened my underwear drawer this morning and rooted around to find that I was down to my last two pair of unmentionables.

These would be my thongs a.k.a. the crack-seeking missiles of the underwear arsenal.

I know there are women out there who adore the thong, who swear by its ability to create a seamless silhouette under tight clothing. Since my wardrobe leans towards comfort and not towards sausage casing snugness, underwear lines are not a big issue for me. I am no fan of the thong.

Frankly, I own the thongs as marital aids and as such I normally do not have to endure them for long. More than ten minutes in them, and I have an unbearable need to de-wedgify myself.

I think we can all agree that there are few sights more horrific than that of a middle-aged woman crankily trying to fish a narrow band of fabric out of the buttock crease. Thus, timing is everything while wearing the thong as a marital aid. But then, timing is everything with most marital aids.

As I peered into my underwear drawer (Yes, the digression on The True Nature of The Thong has ceased and we are back at the underwear drawer. Please, pay attention.) I figured I had two options. Endure the death by wedgie which is the thong or go commando until I could at least get a batch of underwear laundered and dried. Since I work at home, I opted for commando.

I know. What can I say? I'm a wild woman.

Do you think they'll take away my job as spokesmodel for Repressed White Anglo-Saxon Protestants Everywhere because of this? Could we not call it temporary insanity and overlook it?

Jeepers, I hope so.

Well, you'd think that going commando would be enough excitement for one morning, but oh, no, the thrills continued. I sifted through the laundry hampers for underwear and threw in some of the spousal unit's white tee shirts to make it a full load. As I did the dishes, I felt smugly virtuous about multitasking through the housework. I even cleaned the bathroom while I waited for the washer to run through the cycle.

I know. What can I say? I'm a wild woman.

I positively scampered over to the washer when I heard it stop, popped up the lid and almost had a seizure. The spousal unit had forgotten to check his tee shirt pockets and so had I. A kleenex bomb had gone off in the washer and everything but everything in that load was covered with shredded particles of paper snot catcher.

I think that's grounds for divorce in California.

I shook as much off as I could and then tossed the load into the dryer, fully expecting the house to go up in flames at any moment as shredded particles of paper snot catcher spontaneously combusted in said dryer. I didn't care. I needed underwear. I needed it fast. There is only so much freedom I can stand.

I'm not THAT wild and crazy.

My three loyal readers will be relieved to know the crisis is over now. The house did not go up in flames, the underwear drawer is securely stocked, the nether regions firmly encased in comfy unmentionables.

Best of all, The Evil Thong Underwear World Wedgification Plan has once again been thwarted.

For now.

--Marn

P.S.--The International Cavorting Day Hall of Fame is open. You, too, could be part of an institution that's just like the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame except that it doesn't involve music, Ohio, talent or an actual building.

Otherwise, they are remarkably alike.

Celebrate the notion that we should all have one day in our lives when we are free to celebrate a jolt of spontaneous happiness.

Post a button or post a link to the cavorting site and become enshrined! See yourself right up there on the screen!

Make a rubbing of your name!

Oh. Wait. Maybe that last bit wouldn't work. Nevermind that part, 'kay?

Today's inductee into the Hall of Fame is:

The first ten cavorters who entered the Hall of Fame I have dubbed The Mothers And Fathers of Cavorting. Don't worry, this does not involve messy blood tests, paternity cases OR child support. However, each time I update, I will feature one of them.

Cavorting has a large, loving, extended family of aunts and uncles, too, though, and it would be just wrong not to celebrate their wonderfulness as well.

And now, can I have a drum-roll, please, for Today's Cavorting Aunt's and Uncles: