Thanksgiving decoration

This weekend I was in pain big-time. My doctor prescribed higher dosage pain meds and gave me a shot - short of euphoria, but would probably allow me to take a bullet to the body without flinching.

Yesterday, when I got home and realized I could move without excruciating pain, I thought I would do a load of laundry. Did that and went downstairs to pick it up. To save myself a trip, I thought I would get the Thanksgiving wreath from the next room, and hang it on the front door as I went up the stairs.

So far, so good. This morning there was a knock at the front door (nobody that knows me comes to the front door). It was the UPS guy laughing his head off. He said "Are you making a feminist Thanksgiving statement with your decoration?" I had no idea what he was talking about until I looked at the wreath. Somehow, when I transported the wreath on top of the laundry basket, my bra had become hooked to the wreath. So there, draped on my front door, was my underwear. Good thing UPS made a delivery, else my bra would have been there until I changed to the Christmas wreath.

Many folks in my generation had mothers who insisted that we always have proper, mended and clean undergarments in case we were in an accident.

I bet my mother never counted on them being used as holiday decorations....