Underwear Across Madrid

So we met our neighbor from downstairs today. The buzzer went off around 10:30 and I thought it was my uncle Pepe ringing from the street but it turned out to be the lady from downstairs standing at our front door. So I'm standing there in my boxers and I open the door and she has a pair of my tighty whities folded up into a square and says, "I think these are yours." I say, "Ah, gracias." And she says, "They fell into my living room, and since you are the only ones who were drying your whites upstairs I figured they were yours." And I say, "Yes, I suppose they blew down during the rainstorm yesterday afternoon." The whole time we are having this neighborly discussion I am embarrassed because now I am holding a pair of my tighty whities that my neighbor has carefully folded into a square and I'm in my boxers hiding behind the door trying to look like I'm not totally embarrassed. I can't be sure but I think she was embarrassed, too. Probably because no matter what you do your white underwear always show signs of wear in the most embarrassing places. So I hold up my folded whities and say thank you again and smile and we say goodbye. I put my clean underwear in the closet and tell A. And she says, "Oh, I noticed that they were not on the line but I didn't see them down in the courtyard so I thought you had put them away. Hee hee."

The Picasso exhibit was very nice, by the way. The Prado is like a maze, though, and it took us a half an hour to find the pinturas negras by Goya. The thunderstorm caught us by surprise but we enjoyed our walk home at sunset in the rain.