Another reason to wear nice underwear.
I had just finished a delightful meal at the Sonnealp Hotel (translated the name means “sun rising over the alps”; I love that) when the Baron and I got up to leave. We staggered through the dining room, drunk with a food euphoria that always comes with the exquisite european service. Mid-way through the bar, I heard a voice call out my name. (My back faced the dinning area-a bit of logistical information you’ll need later.)
I spun around to see two investment bankers and their family sharing a mound of homemade peppermint cotton candy. The Baron and I paused to exchange holiday greetings, complained about the lousy skiing conditions (no snow has fallen since the beginning of December; tragic) and then went on our way home.
Back at the ranch, I passed by a mirror in the entrance way. As I caught my rearview reflection (it was just Christmas after all) I noticed a ragged piece of black fabric protruding from my bum. Frozen, I back-tracked and took a closer look. Red and green plaid poked from the seat of my pants. I checked again. Yep, there was absolutely no doubt. My underwear peered through the two-inch tear.
*Note to self: Just because you’re in a remote ski area, don’t think you are alone. Bankers are everywhere.
*First food guilt trip for 2012: Perhaps eating the left over Christmas cookies wasn’t such a good idea.
*Advice from my niece: You have to comb the hair on the back of your head too. (Checking for the tag is just not enough. Take a few steps back and get the full-length view.)
*Undergarment fashion tip: Holiday plaid is the new black.
E.L. Chappel author of Risk
Developing an even broader sense of humor
aka The Glamorous Wife