Fun Underwear
That day the sexagenarian me went out and bought underwear that makes me happy
So I recently learned that the name for someone in their sixties is a sexagenarian. I’m not sure why I didn’t realize that before but I am quite fond of the word and happy it applies to me for a few more years. It’s not related to sex although it sounds like it should be but I love that it’s in the word.
Lately I purchased some new underwear. After many decades wearing granny panties I am now the proud owner of much sexier ware. Ironic that now when I am actually a granny I’ve managed to move beyond the ones I’ve been sporting for so long.
It was a spur-of-a-moment decision that took me into a local lingerie store and once there I was like a kid in a candy shop. Such varied colours and patterns, of undies and so many styles. Much fun. I did not buy any thongs though. Butt floss underwear did not appeal. As an aside, when I was a kid a pair of thongs were those plastic sandals that are also called flip flops. In a previous life my kids groaned with embarrassment when asked if they had put on their thongs to go to the beach. “Gross Mum, thongs are underwear.” No thongs for me, the shoe or butt floss kind. I don’t like the feel of plastic between my toes or the idea of string between my cheeks.
