We really should've pretended we were traveling for a couple weeks and just packed a suitcase (or three) of stuff we'd need. I was good about setting aside our toiletries - I'd be blind without my contact lens stuff, and a girl needs to be able to put on her face in the morning - but I figured we didn't have that much stuff, so we'd be fine with just fishing our way through everything else. I'm delusional.
Taer was rummaging through our mountains of boxes as he asked, "Where are my boxers?"
"I stuck them in a box." Duh. "I'm not sure if they're at the bottom of one of the wardrobes, or if I just stuck them in a regular box. I remember putting them with a bunch of your t-shirts."
Taer owns about 3,592 t-shirts. Not that I'm counting. After digging through box after box of t-shirts, we were still at a loss. But it also got me thinking about my own down-there status. "Let me know if you find my underwear too, please."
We might have to be the commando couple. Isn't that the name of some superheroes, maybe part of the Justice League?