THE G-BANGER

So the other day, I’m unloading the washing machine, and transferring clothes up into the dryer.  Yes, I have a dryer, and I use it all the time.  Pitfalls of living in the middle of a dust bowl in bum fuck nowhere.  No point having a clothes line when they continually get covered in dust, and/or blown over into Puckapunyal from the cyclonic winds.

Anyway, as I’m unloading the clothes, I come across the bunched up little piece of lace.  I unravel it, and low and behold; I’m staring at a little, tiny, black, lacy g-string.

WTF?

I look at the washing machine, which is full of Charlie’s clothing, and back at the g-banger.  How the fuck did this get in with Charlie’s clothes?

Scenario number one: he’s into wearing women’s underwear.  Now, I never see him get dressed in the mornings, because he’s up earlier than me.  For all I know, he could put on the pretty lacy stuff under his workpants.  Maybe it feels nice? 

No… I don’t think so.

Scenario number two: he’s having an affair.  It’s come out of his washing… it could have been in one of his pockets… I didn’t check his pockets… wtf?  But…. He’s not that type of person….

As my world starts crumbling around me, I look over at one of the wash baskets, and I can see in there, amounts the other washing, another g-banger.  I rummage through the clothing, and produce no less than four of them. 

OMG.  They’re Jade’s.  Jade’s wearing these fucken lacy g-bangers!

Firstly, how could I think Charlie’s having an affair?  What a fucken idiot?  I mean, he’s gorgeous and all, but really!  He’s just not that type of person!  I mentally apologised like a million times to him as relief flooded through me.

‘Jade!’ I bellowed.

‘Yeah?’

‘Can you come to the laundry please?’ 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. ‘What?’

‘Don’t fucken speak to me like that!’

‘Sorry.’

‘What the fuck is this?’ I held up the offending garment.

‘That’s my underwear.’ She said matter-of-factly.

‘Why the fuck are you wearing this shit?  You’re fourteen!  FOURTEEN!’

‘I like it.  It makes me feel pretty.’

‘It makes you feel pretty. You don’t need this shit to feel pretty!  AT FOURTEEN!’

‘I like wearing it.’

I looked at the g-banger, and back at Jade.  ‘Who bought you these?’

‘Mum’. 

Great.  Her lovely biological mother, who’s morals are more than questionable, has bought her daughter lacy g-strings.  What the fuck?  Who buys lacy g-strings for their fourteen year old daughter?  Am I the only one that thinks that’s all forms of fucked up?

‘I seriously don’t know what to make of this.’

‘What’s the problem?’ Jade asked, hand on hip.

‘I don’t really know, to be honest… I just think you’re too young to wear this kind of stuff, is all.’ I replied, calming down a little bit.  ‘You’re in too much of a hurry to grow up.’ I added, throwing the g-banger into the dryer.  ‘Too much of a hurry.’

A couple of days later, after I had recovered from the shock, I was unloading the dryer, and pulled a pretty little pink one out just as Charlie walked in the back door.

‘Well hello honey!’ he smiled at me, taking the g-banger from me.  He held it up and looked at it, and then the expression on his face slowly changed.  His brows furrowed as he studied the lingerie… looked at me…. Back to the lingerie…

‘Um…’

‘No.  They’re not mine.’

‘Then who…’

‘Jade.’

Charlie screamed, threw the lingerie at me and leapt back about four feet, plastering himself against the freezer in the mud room opposite me.  ‘What the fuck?’ he said, pointing at them in horror, as Jade came thumping in from the next room.

‘What happened?’ she asked, looking back and forth between us.

‘Dad discovered your underwear.’ I said simply.

‘Oh.’ She said, shrugged, and returned to the lounge room.

‘What the fuck is she wearing that shit for?’ he cried in despair.  ‘She’s fucken fourteen?’

‘Ask your ex-wife; the one that bought them for her.  Apparently, she feels it okay.’

‘I don’t want my daughter dressing like a whore…’

‘A whore?’ I laughed.  ‘For fucks sake, Charlie.  Two seconds ago, you thought they were mine.  Clearly, it’s okay for me to dress like a whore, but not her?’

‘Correct.’

‘Fuck off you idiot.’ I laughed, and tossed Jade’s grundies in her basket. 

‘I’m not coping.’ He said firmly.  ‘I’m not coping!’

‘Have a mug of concrete love.’ I said, continuing to sort the drying.

‘Why would she want to wear them?’ he asked feebly.

I shrugged. ‘Why does any woman want to wear them.  They make her feel pretty, apparently.’

‘Pretty? Who the fucks going to see them?’ he gasped in horror.  ‘Does someone see them? Is she letting someone see them?  Is my daughter-‘he started panicking.

‘No, for fucks sake man!  Calm down!  She’s not that type of girl.  She likes displaying her junk, but she’s not that kind of girl.  Let her be.  It’s harmless.’

‘I’m not coping…’ he muttered, as he wandered into the kitchen.  ‘I’m not coping…’ he added, and fussed around pouring himself a scotch and coke.

‘Bit early, isn’t it?’ I asked, walking into the kitchen a few minutes later.  He was sitting at the table, sipping his drink.

‘I’m not coping.’