Monday, June 19, 2006

BOX PANTIES

I suppose you thought of something wonderful and macho for your dad for Father’s Day: a camouflage hunting jacket . . . tickets to the Stanley Cup . . . a little red sports car. . . .

Well, the dad in OUR house got three new pairs of box panties.

See, many years ago, he was standing in line with our two oldest daughters, then probably 3 and 4, at the busiest McDonald’s in the middle of the city, at rush hour. There were five lines across, five people deep. You know how sometimes, in situations like that, everybody suddenly goes silent?

That’s right when one of the girls whirled around and asked, at the top of her voice:

“DADDY! DO YOU HAVE YOUR BOX PANTIES ON, DAD?!?”

He had tried to answer their question about why his unmentionables looked so different from theirs . . . and that’s what he got.

But it’s one of those beloved stories of family lore. And now he has three new pairs, all white: one has a monkey embroidered on it, one has “HUSKERS” . . . and one has “Daddy’s Box Panties” in pink writing, with a red heart.

So next time you see him, be sure to ask.

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