Sometimes, when Murphy is bored and really, really bad he'll root around in the dirty laundry hamper and find my undies and eat them. Well, he doesn't eat all of them, just part of them, if you catch my drift. He then leaves them on the bed and skulks around shamefully when I get home from work until I yell at him.

Yes, it's gross, but he isn't the only undie eater out there. Dogs are just nasty.

Now fast forward to this morning. I'm at work. I leave my office and head over to the cantina to nuke some water to make some hot tea. One of the downsides of working in an environment like a steel mill is the occasional sexual harassment. This morning it was in the form of some douchebag wolf whistling and giving me he best sleaze ball "how you doin'? Mmmm..." Nasty men are worse than nasty dogs. Seriously? I'm just here to work and heat up the occasional cup of tea.

Unwilling to endure his lecherous gaze for the 4 minutes it would take to bring my water to temperature, I ran out to the bathroom. It was here that I realized that one pair of undies that Murph snacked on escaped detection, made it into the wash, through the dryer, got folded up and put away. Turns out that in my haste to get out of the house in the early morning hours (I get dressed in the dark, so as not to wake Josh) I pulled them on and off I went.

Now I'm wearing crotch-less panties at work in a steel mill.