He is still at home, not scheduled to return to work until his post-op follow up visit, next week. The familiar clank sound of the brass mail slot in ...he front door told him today’s mail had arrived. As Mike picked up the pile and sorted through the usual: junk, junk, junk electric bill, junk, a letter from the Health Insurance Company. The others went in a pile on the coffee table as he torn open the insurance envelope to see what it contained. There was a list of medical services that totaled. Mostly that meant high in the thigh lace panties, and one thong. Not even enough for a weeks worth of wearing - no wonder he told me I would need to go shopping.I almost cried right then - not knowing what to do. The snowball was rolling down that mountain and I knew it would soon be an avalanche.Want to know something else? I didn't cry... and I did wear the panties that my son had picked out for me. Most of which I haven't worn in years and were at least two sizes too smile for my older wider. More

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