You will notice a new word has been added to the glossary: Macqyveresque — the uncanny ability to get a little somethin’ somethin’ and more without anyone suspecting otherwise and no obligatory sleepovers. There’s more to Macgyveresquing though, because the fact that you have to be “Macgyver” to get a little somethin’ somethin’ presents it’s own set of problems. Let me take you back to where it all began…

I am very close with my parents. What can I say, I am one of the blessed people who has a great relationship with my family and I love to be around them. As we all get older I place greater value on being with my family. My laptop is jealous, but family is forever, laptops last about 3-7 years…

Anyway, I tangentalize… so for the last 16 years my parents have been coming to visit me in California, and they always stay with me… that is they did until Shady made them feel uncomfortable and Sister opened up her one-bedroom to them while she slept on the couch. Now that may not seem like such a big sacrifice, if they stayed for say.. a week. But being retired and having their two daughters in CA when they are from the East Coast, they stay for weeks and sometimes months at a time.

Now when I was living with Shady, it didn’t matter, because as you know if you’ve been following this blog, there was no sex happening there.. WHATSOEVER. Now, being good people and wanting to show their gratitude, they would do nice things around the house, like cook and laundry. This included my laundry. So they got pretty accustomed to what my underwear looked like. And since no one was seeing them other than the people who did the laundry, I was perfectly comfortable sporting cotton Victoria Secret, 3 for $10, white g-strings. I had about 30 pair of them.

Here’s where the Macgyvering comes in. I’m traveling this year. As I expand my business I am spending more time on the East Coast. Now instead of my parents spending 3 months with me, I am being pampered at their new “spa-like” home. It’s literally like a retreat. They cook healthy meals for me, the bathroom reminds me of Shutters on the Water, and they are trying so hard to get me to stay (hate to break it to them but it’s not going to happen) that they even do my laundry. THIS IS NOW A PROBLEM.

If I were in a British romantic comedy, I’d say, “I have decided to take a lover,” but since it’s America, I will say, “I just found my very first ‘friend with benefits’ just in time for No Strings Attached,” which I REALLY wanted to see, but now I’m afraid, because predictable rom com logic tells me that they are going to fall in love at the end, and that’s not how I want my story to end…

Anyway, now that I have this “friend with benefits” I’ve upgraded the cotton white Victoria Secrets, to lacy pink g-strings, and slinky cheeky panties, and the highly enjoyed lace trim hiphugger that accentuates my mini J-Lo butt.  BUT I can NOT put these sexy panties in my laundry bag because my parents will know what is up!

I know when I defined somethin’ somethin’ I set the intention of reliving those highly-charged feelings of teenage angst, but at my age to have to say to a guy, “I know it’s only 10, but I have to get home because my parents are waiting up,” is a little more than I had planned for. The funniest thing is that while he wants me to stay, he has two young daughters of his own, so he is torn between tying me to his bed to force me to stay, and relating to how my dad must feel… The dad card always wins. My Friend With Benefits is easy to Macgyver, it’s the parents I’m having a challenge with. I wonder if I have enough sexy panties to last me a few more weeks until I’m back in CA and can do my own laundry… but where will I hide them in the mean time?

©2011