I live on a quiet suburban street called Maplewood Lane, the kind of place where everyone knows each other’s Wi-Fi passwords and lawnmower models. Peaceful, predictable, polite—until the Great Underwear Incident of ’25.
It started with my new neighbor, Tina. Nice enough gal, mid-30s, yoga enthusiast, lived alone with her two cats, Fig and Newton. Everything was cool until one sunny Saturday afternoon, she strung up a laundry line right in front of her house—and directly outside my 16-year-old son’s bedroom window.
Let me paint the picture: ten pairs of large, pastel-colored granny panties swaying in the wind like flags at a renaissance fair. My son, Kevin, who could barely make eye contact with a waitress, suddenly turned into a curtain ninja—constantly peeking out like a soldier on surveillance.
“Mom,” he whispered one day, “is it weird if I start doing laundry more?”
Red flag.
So, I did what any sensible mom would do—I went over and had a polite word with Tina. I explained the window situation and suggested maybe moving the line to the backyard. She laughed, offered me lemonade, and then did… absolutely nothing.
That’s when I decided: fine. If she wants to make it a show, I’ll give her front row seats.
The next weekend, while she was out doing goat yoga or whatever, I borrowed a dozen size XXL men’s briefs from the thrift store—think fire engine red, electric blue, tiger print. I soaked them, stretched them out for dramatic effect, and strung them up proudly across my own front yard like victory banners.
By the time Tina returned, the neighborhood kids were pointing, Kevin was mortified, and one old man shouted, “Well, that’s a confident household!”
Tina burst out laughing. “Okay, okay—you win,” she chuckled. “Message received.”
We’ve since moved on. She now uses a retractable line on her back porch, and Kevin has thankfully resumed studying for the SATs without distraction.
Moral of the story? Never start a passive-aggressive war with a suburban mom armed with a sense of humor and access to a Goodwill. Also, when it comes to laundry, location is everything.