Between stifled laughter and mortified disbelief, I did my best to explain. But Jake’s imagination was running wild, wondering if Mrs. Lisa was secretly a superhero, with underwear designed for aerodynamics.
He even wanted to join in, suggesting his Captain America boxers could hang next to her “crime-fighting gear.”
It became a daily routine—Lisa’s laundry would wave in the breeze, and Jake’s curiosity would stir. But when he asked if he could hang his own underwear next to hers,
I knew it was time to put an end to this spectacle. So, I marched over to her house, ready to resolve the situation diplomatically.
Lisa answered the door, and before I could say much, she made it clear she wasn’t about to change her laundry habits for anyone.
She laughed off my concerns, suggesting I “loosen up” and even offered me advice on spicing up my own wardrobe.
Frustrated but determined, I came up with a plan—a brilliantly petty one. That evening, I created the world’s largest, most garish pair of granny panties out of the brightest fabric I could find. The next day, when Lisa left, I hung my masterpiece right in front of her window.
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