She: “I was caught reading Nora Roberts on the bus, and I remembered the saying about only having books that you would be proud of reading. You know, in case you died or something.”
Me: “It’s like your mom telling you to wear clean underwear in case you’re in an accident.”
She: “I do that.”
Me: “No you don’t. You wear clean underwear because it’s hygienic. I say that if you’re in an accident, no one will care about the state of your underwear.”
She: “I suppose that’s true.”
Me: “I’d even say it doesn’t matter so long as you’re wearing underwear…”
She & Me: “Well…”
She: “Coverage.”
Me: “Okay, yes, I agree to a certain extent. I’d worry more about being caught commando…”
She: “Oh, the horror!”
Me: “Can you imagine…in a coma, aware but unable to respond, and then hearing your mother say, ‘She got what she deserved. I always told her that you get into accidents when you don’t wear underwear!’ ”
She: “And look what was on her bedside table!”
Me: “Nah…I don’t think it matters. Underwear? Books? I will not be judged posthumously by these things.”
She: “Vampire porn?”
Me: “And thongs. I dare them to put it in the accident report.”
