I love a good auto correct fail. But that is beside the point because the following has absolutely nothing to do with auto correct.
The other day I was at Alco, our local “stuff” store. I noticed they had just got a rare shipment of Hanes underwear – which is AWESOME, because that is my husband’s favorite brand! Alco always carries Fruit of the Loom (which is not allowed in our house), so seeing the “good stuff” in a special display box got me pretty hyped.
I whipped out my phone and texted the hubs,
“Is you underwear small or medium?”
I then started to dig through the sizes (because, OF COURSE, there were enough XXXXXXXXXXXL packs to equip 50 sumo wrestling TEAMS with undies…and any sizes below that were probably nonexistent).
I paused, shoulder-deep in men’s under garments. A quick peek at my phone confirmed my dread. I had not texted Connor. I had texted my pastor.
Who, I might add, had only moved to town and started preaching at our church maybe two weeks prior to that day.
I have never died so slowly. I laid right on that scuffed linoleum Alco floor and DIED.
“I am SO SORRY! That was not meant for you!”
He LOL’d and told me “no worries.”
A couple days later, I had completely forgotten this incident. While at church, I spent some time talking to the pastor about the dates of our women’s bible study and he kept giving me this big grin. Like a really BIG GRIN. I kept thinking, “Man, this guys is way too excited about women’s bible studies…”
It wasn’t until I got home after church and was eating my grilled cheese sandwich that I realized, mid-bite, why my pastor had been snickering (pastorally, of course) at me.