Saturday Night Panties

By February 21, 2004 conversations, little cousins

Tonight Kristin and I got paid $25 each to sit around watching Reel Big Fish videos on my laptop and get mooned by Franky in the kitchen while we made fun of his panties. It all started when I told him to go downstairs and get into his pajamas. He said, “I’m gonna get a big t-shirt from up here and wear it. I’ll leave my underwear on.”

“Oh, keeping your panties on tonight?” I joked.

“PANTIES!” he replied. “I don’t wear panties!”

By the time we got downstairs to pop in a movie, he was throwing himself around the kitchen in an oversized Keds t-shirt with his hair in a little ponytail (which later turned into a mohawk) on top of his head screaming, “They’re not panties!” We started calling him Franky Panties and FrankBob PantyPants. Soon, every time we even mentioned the word panties he’d just pull them down and show us his little Franky butt.

Then, while Kristin and I were enjoying some milk and cookies, he said the stupidest thing I heard all night. “Back one time when I was three, I did poops and I forgot to wipe and a half hour later, I was itching my rear end like crazy!” This resulted Kristin falling to the kitchen floor practically in tears as milk flew out of my mouth and Franky turned bright red and pulled his shirt up over his head.

We finally calmed down and Franky grabbed onto me pleading, “Can we please start the movie now?”

“Whoa there!” I said, “Find the remote and start it. No sense getting your panties all in a bunch over it. Calm down.”

“GRRRRRRR! They’re NOT PANTIES!”

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