If you ever watched the Indiana Jones Movie Series, then you remember the scene where Indiana has found the "Chalice of the Christ" and the fountain of youth. The old guard who is sitting in the cavernous room says in that spooky oracle voice, "Choose Wisely." When the first guy chooses the chalice that he thinks belongs to the Christ, and dips it in the fountain of youth, and drinks, he ages instantly, and I mean ages . . . I'm talking like skeleton aging. And the spooky oracle voiced guard says, "He choose poorly." Duh. But when Indie chooses the right chalice and drinks from the fountain, the guard says in the same spooky monotone voice, "He choose well."
That's the voice I hear at night, when I have stepped from a very relaxing bath, have wrapped myself in a warm, fresh towel, and make my way to my underwear and nightgown drawer (if you are my brothers or parents or children (or Sarah), you might not want to keep reading . . . :) ) I must think long and hard about my choice. Because my choice has great implications. Great implications.
As I stand over the open drawer, hand hovering over my choice, I hear that voice saying, "Choose wisely."
Apparently, my choice in sleepwear and underwear sends a subliminal message to my husband's brain. I'm just choosing something to sleep in. But to him, I'm choosing how long it will be before I get to fall asleep. I know you married girls out there are nodding your heads right now, thinking, yep, that's right.
Maybe I'm just in the mood for something silky, you know? Just something silky. But putting on something silky, is like waving a red flag in front of a bull to my husband. Or maybe I want to wear black panties and not white cotton ones, that too is apparently a message. So I must choose wisely. Sometimes, I purposefully put on high waisted white cotton undies, with long flannel pants that have penguins on them and a purple t-shirt (he hates purple) with a big hole on the shoulder. (Could I look any less attractive?) But sometimes I do put on that little silky red number that he loves. . . wink.
All that to say, I don't really understand why I can't just open the drawer, choose what suits my mood, and go to bed. I guess I'm not a guy, so I don't think like a guy. But tonight, I chose wisely . . . wouldn't you like to know . . .
haven't we had this conversation? It sounds familiar! :) I personally wear whatever the "h" is clean. It all usually comes off anyway. That's what darkness is good for.:)
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