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me: you're back from the gym already?
you left, like, eight minutes ago.
anne: when it comes to working out,
i prefer the minimalist approach.
me: huh.
anne: don't put that in your blog.
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I have a pair of underwear that says, I Said Yes! I found them in the wrong size bin at the Victoria's Secret Semi-Annual Sale. Despite both my maturity and determination to purchase some seamless black boyshorts, I was drawn irresistably to them. I think it was the rhinestones.
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I guessed they were intended for a future bride. This was confirmed when the nice lady at the counter asked me who was getting married. I confided that I just needed some extra underwear. She nodded knowingly. And I thought that was that.
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Until I realized that this pair of underwear does, in fact, have special powers. Because life is just hard, sometimes, and people hurt me without meaning to, and I hurt myself without meaning to, and the rock step that I am trying to wrestle into a hole in the ground hurts me (it meant to). And slowly, I began to realize that this pair of spare undies was worth far more than the $3.99 I'd forked over. It had given me wisdom that I was only just beginning to appreciate. I realized how often, and how loudly, I have to say, Yes!
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Yes! I will stop myself from telling you that you make idiotic decisions, because you just need someone to listen compassionately. Yes! I will laugh at your jokes even though you won't laugh at mine, and mine are funnier. Yes, I will stop attacking you, and realize that you can't see my tender parts. Yes, I will eat this sinister-looking Tabasco quesadilla you made me. Or pretend to, anyway.
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I Said Yes! We matter deeply. I Said Yes! I will worship You even if I never hear the end of it. I will allow life to hurt me and come back for more, because I Said Yes! I will allow myself to be healed, because I Said Yes!
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So yes, wearing this pair of underwear tires me out a little more than, say, my Day of the Week undies, if only because of the added weight of responsibility I feel. Magic underwear, may I never forget your true message. May your ink remain undimmed by the passage of time and overzealous application of bleach (sorry).
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And thanks, for saying yes for me, when I don't want to anymore.
