Underwear Thursday Continued

Here's a random sort-of-underwear picture for a random sort-of-underwear post:

Last night as we schnuggled into bed early (as a new resolution) . . . and our "early" was 10:45 pm . . . (still need to work on "early") . . . Dallas and I got a bad case of the giggles. This happens every once in awhile, where we are in bed at night, tired as can be, and start saying things that make us laugh so hard we're crying.

I think it began last night when I told him about the underwear post. Except I was talking about all of the things that I didn't write. Like all the things that start going through my head when I see the fancy row outside our window. See post here.

It's one of those moments where you have to be really tired (and at least one of you has to be a Purdy.) Tell me if the following things might cross your mind:

Why are there two pairs that are not, ahem, completely white? And where on the row will they be next week? Or the next? Should I look forward to spotting them, or should I avoid spotting them? Should I even be using the word spot?

What if there were only six pairs on the line one week instead of seven?

Or worse, what if there were eight?

You follow?

Dallas noted, "Some people put themselves on the line; others put their underwear on the line."

And then everything went clear downhill from there.