An Intimate Subject

My 25-year-old sister, Kinra, and I share a lot of things, more so since I've come to live with her during my internship in Detroit. She'll borrow my shirt, I'll take her Kanye West CD. She'll take my watch, I'll borrow her belt. It's all love. But there are some things that even family members can't share.

Like underwear.

I ain't talking about bras and slips and stuff like that. I mean UNDERWEAR -- panties, knickers, drawes.

"I don't want to wear your drawes, Talia," Kinra said into the phone with some exasperation. She had called me at work to see if I had mixed my underclothes in with the dark colors in the washing machine.

I had. Now, there was a problem.

Underwear is probably the most intimate -- if not sacred -- piece of clothing a person can own. Why do you think Victoria wanted to keep them a secret? At the laundry mat, I turn my back as I fold my jimmies so no one can see. So, the thought of having someone else, even a blood relative that I eat and drink after and share a bed with, wear my drawes wasn't going to cut it.

I could understand my sister's frustration. The one and only time I ever borrowed someone's underwear was out of absolute necessity. I felt horrible the entire time I was wearing them. Even though they were clean, I just couldn't bear the thought that the panties belonged to someone else and had been in their nether-regions probably in the last two weeks. I felt even weirder giving them back. But I digress.

"Just wait until I get home and I'll pick mine out," I told my sister, halfway trying not to laugh because she was really about to have a conniption about these panties.

"Do you have some black ones," she asked, ignoring me.

"Yes, Kinra," I replied. "Just wait 'till I get home."

"Medium or large," she continued.

"Medium," I said. "Kinra - just wait 'till I get home."

"I can't tell which ones are mine," she said. I could imagine her frowning on the other end. I couldn't blame her though. Like I said, there's just some things you don't share.

"I know, Kinra," I said with a sigh. "Just wait 'till I get home."