Jon and I are in bed, drifting off to sleep and partaking in the random conversation that accompanies such a situation.
Me: This is going to sound really weird but these underwear don't feel like they are mine.
Jon: I'm going to need more information.
Me: They are my size and all but the cut feels much different than my normal undies.These feel more brief than bikini. (I go and take off my underwear to confirm that yes, they are indeed someone else's)
Jon: How would you get someone else's underwear? Oh wait.
Jon: When I went downstairs (which is where our laundry room is) to switch the laundry from the washer to the dryer there was a pair of black underwear sitting beneath our laundry bag. I just assumed they were yours and threw them in with our stuff.
Me: You mean to tell me that not only was I just wearing our neighbor's underwear but that it may have not even been clean?!
Jon: well, yes. That might just be the case.
Me: So where do I go from here? Do I wash them and put them back down there? Do I put a note, "took these for a spin, worked like a dream".
Jon: No, you throw them away and we never have to speak of it again. Unless of course you are going to blog about it.
Me: I think I have to.