grandma panties

So a while a go I wrote about how the director of my residence at school almost saw me in my underware. There are worse things. Like how your bf's grandparents can see you in your underware.

And yes. This happened to me. How? There are factors. The biggest one being that they don't believe in a/c here in europe (France included) so any thing that can be opened to help ventilate is. This includes front doors.

Now you might be wondering why I was in my underware in the first place. First, see above paragraph. Second, I don't like pants. Third, before lounging around in my underware I asked the question "Do you think anyone is going to come around unexpectedly because if they are I will be putting on some pants." I was told definitively no.

So imagine my surprise as I am sitting at the laptop downstairs enjoying the the brillance of Gene Weingarten (a man who encourages a union beween a man named "Hamburger" and a woman named "Frankfurt" for humorlistic value) when in walks the grandparents.

It gets worse. Because in France you can't just say "Hello" at a respectable distance and then go run upstairs to put on your pants. No. You have to get close enough to the person as to give the standard greeting of the cheek to cheek kiss. Yes. Even grandpa. And even if you are in your underpants.

And not just any underpants. Because I had been on holiday and doing laundry I was wearing what I call my "emergency underware" or as others call it "grandma panties". They look like this (minus the waist band).

Now which is more likely? That 1. I can pull off these bad boys as shorts? (they are a little baggy on me) Or b. I'm not fooling no one and should be more embarassed about my poor underware tastes and inability to size underware correctly.

I don't know. It all happened so fast and I don't have much "Your bf's grandparents are suddenly saying hi to you and you are in your underware" experience so I'm just hoping for the former.

Sigh. Everything. Happens. To. Me.