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Hell, I didn’t know. “Should we…put something between them? You know, to protect the…delicates.”
“You think?”
“Well, when you go to a shop, they always use tissue paper.”
“I thought that was just to look fancy.”
I shrugged. This wasn’t exactly my area of expertise. “I’m not even sure what we would wrap them in.”
“Ziplock bags,” he said, snapping his fingers. “She always has a ton of them in the kitchen.”
“How many do you think I’ll need?”
“One per piece of…delicate…thing?”
“That sounds about right,” I nodded. “I’ll go get them.”
He slapped his hand on my chest, stopping me from leaving. “Maybe I should go with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I know where she keeps her things.”
He sounded confident in his answer, but his eyes never left the underwear drawer. “You just don’t want to be left alone with her delicates.”
He flushed bright red, scratching the back of his neck. “I haven’t seen her underwear since the playground. It had little stripes on it. This…this is…womanly underwear.”
“It freaks you out,” I said, completely understanding.
Some men were comfortable with women’s delicates. They liked to touch them and play with them. Hell, some went shopping for them. I wasn’t that kind of man. Men did manly things like build shit and kill people. Real men did not go into a woman’s drawer and touch her intimate apparel.
“Alright, let’s get this over with.”
We headed downstairs, both of us on a mission to escape the uncomfortable sexual apparel that waited for us upstairs. Except, when we reached the kitchen, we were met with another problem. The hole in the floor extended to the kitchen, cutting off our access.
“Is there another way in?”
He nodded. “The back door.”
“So, we’ll go that way.”
“But that door has been stuck for two years.”
“Why didn’t she have it fixed?” I asked.
“Beats me. Because she’s a woman?”
I snorted in amusement. “Well, there’s only one thing to do. One of us is going to have to throw the other across the hole.”
“Sure, I think I can handle that.”
“Alright, give me your hand.”
He held it out like he was going to take mine and I did the same.
“What are you doing?” he asked, staring at my hand in confusion.
“I’m going to throw you.”
