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At the sales woman’s suggestion, Michael bought a simple white blouse, a flower patterned wrap-around skirt, white socks and white panties. The plump woman urged him to look at the bras, but he couldn’t decide how big Barbara was or whether that was too personal an item. “My wife has plenty of these already,” he told the saleswoman.
Walking down the street, he thought, maybe the panties were too personal as well. As it seemed more embarrassing to return the panties, he kept them.
Barbara was laying down in his gray bathrobe when he strolled into the room, the package behind his back.
She smiled when he held it out and went to the bathroom to try them on.
“Where’s the bra?” she yelled, trying on the panties.
“I’m trying to get you to go without one,” he yelled back.
“All men are alike,” she yelled.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten you underpants, either. How liberated are you?”
“My husband’s the sex fiend, not me,” she yelled.
“The clothes look fine,” Michael said when Barbara emerged from the bathroom, “even though you wore your old bra.”