Hanky Panky on the Tennis Court

It has been a while since I have been here, but this story just begged to be a blog post, so here I am. Yeh, I missed you guys too.

This is a spin on the age old advice that every mom gives their daughter and every daughter rolls their eyes at:

Make sure you wear nice underwear, you never know when you are going to get into an accident.

Seriously? What kind of advice is this? And if you are in a car accident, is your underwear really your biggest problem?

I guess this stuck with me, and quite honestly I doubt my mom ever said this herself. I always make sure I am wearing nice underwear and I happen to love Hanky Panky thongs.  Especially the black ones.

There. it is out. Now everyone knows. Not just the guys my husband plays tennis with…

Scenario: 

Husband is playing in his regular Saturday game. He is in a little bit of a crouch [not crotch] and feels something odd in his shorts. He reaches in and pulls out… you guessed it. A lovely pair of black original-rise Hanky Pankys stuck inside his shorts from the static gods. He holds them up. Everyone gives him that look like, shit I hope those belong to your wife. Or maybe it was more like, what happens on the tennis court stays on the tennis court.

The worst part is that he couldn’t ‘seem to remember’ who was on the court at the time.

I am sure I will find out soon enough.