Washing Day

[Robert Brooks]

Washing Day

I know that probably for a lot of you 'nothing really happens' in this story, but it really amused and titillated me at the time. It was just something I witnessed at a friend's house one time. I'm glad I didn't have an annoying little sister like his!

***

It was second or third year at senior school, mid Spring. Michael would have been thirteen or fourteen. I'd gone over to his house after school one Friday. Michael has a younger sister who was still in primary school, year five or six. I can't remember her name so I’ll call her Sarah. As it happened, she had some of her own friends over after school too, I think they were having a sleepover.

Being Spring, the weather was now warm enough to start hanging washing out on the line again. His mum had evidently done a wash earlier that day as a load of his clothes were drying outside in the garden. When we got to his house, however, we went straight up to his room, so we didn't look at the garden at all. I don’t think he even realised his mum had done the wash and his clothes were drying outside.

After a short while hanging out in his room, watching TV, we heard from downstairs the girls arriving with Michael’s mum. Being three or four years younger than us, he obviously didn’t want to have anything to do with them, so we stayed upstairs watching TV. Pretty soon the sound of them mingling around downstairs died away and I then heard through Michael’s open window they’d gone outside to play. Almost immediately I heard lots of laughing and shrieking, followed by Sarah’s comment about something being “…my brother’s,” but I didn’t think too much of it at the time. They could have been talking about anything. I wondered for a second what it could be, but soon forgot about it as we watched whatever episode we had on.

Eventually Michael and I ventured downstairs to grab a drink from the kitchen and that’s when we saw them through the window, sitting on the grass right next to where Michael’s clothes were pegged to the washing line. Closest to them were a pair of his school trousers and jumper, and just a few spaces along from his shirt were hanging… his pants! I already knew he wore briefs from seeing him in the changing rooms and I even thought I recognised one or two distinct red pairs with a football on the front. I couldn’t make out the detail from that far back but I thought it unlikely it would be his sister’s knickers. They definitely looked more like boys underwear.

Something about the idea that his younger sister’s friends were sat so close to this older boy’s hanging underpants really excited and amused me, especially as they were pretty childish, cartoony ones. They were probably more childish than some of the boys in their class wore! I don’t know for sure if that’s what they'd been laughing at when they first stepped out into the garden, but I like to think it was. It would certainly fit the “my brother’s” comment, and likely trigger the very particular sort of laughter I’d heard — the kind that invariably accompanies the girlish delights of teasing boys.

We didn’t stay in the kitchen long. Whether Michael had also noticed what I’d spotted I couldn’t say, but we went back upstairs pretty quick and he now seemed a little distracted and moody. Maybe it was just the idea of having to spend the night with a load of little girls in the house, maybe not. I certainly know how I would feel if my mum left my pants hanging around when a bunch of girls were coming over! I think he probably did notice and just wanted to ignore it, perhaps not wanting to show his true feelings.

I stayed for another episode or two, then it was time for me to head home as well. When we got downstairs, we found the girls had all come in from the garden and were now noisily occupying the living room, also watching TV.

Something else had come in too…

At the foot of the stairs, waiting to be taken up to Michael’s room when his mum next went that way, was the laundry hamper; sitting proudly on top of the pile of loosely folded clothes, in plain sight yet again, were Michael’s briefs. Now much closer up, close enough to clearly make out the football this time and a few other fairly childish designs I also recognised, there was no mistaking they were definitely his. Had the girls been there when she’d taken them off the line? The idea once again amusingly appealed to me.

I’m not sure if Michael had seen the basket though. Sitting slightly behind the bottom two steps, it wasn’t immediately visible as we came down the stairs. It was only because I then stood facing it, my back to the front door that I was looking right at it. With the basket behind him, Michael probably didn’t know it was there. It was, however, also clearly visible to the girls in the living room should they look our way, as it was sat right opposite the open doorway.

Just as we were about to say goodbye, finishing up whatever conversation we’d been having, one of the girls noticed us through the doorway and gestured to the others that Michael was stood just outside — standing right next to a jumble of his own pants!

“Michael…” one of the girls called from somewhere out of sight.
Lots of silly, girlish giggling that Michael expertly ignored as we carried on talking.
“Michael…!” A little louder from someone else.
More giggling. A pause. Hushed whispers.
“SO, I’ll see you Monday…” Michael said to me, a little forced as he made a valiant effort to totally blank the tittering girls.
“MICHAEL…!” The girls weren’t quitting. “MICHAEL! MICHAEL!!"
Finally he snapped and turned around to face the open living room door, unable to block out the girls any more.
"WHAT?!" he yelled.
“I like your shirt, Michael.”
Giggle, giggle.
Michael turned back, not even bothering to reply. "Catch ya later, dude," he said very firmly, and took a step towards me with an air of a bouncer ushering someone out the door. Sensing he wanted to get back upstairs as quickly as possible, I opened the front door to leave. Then I stopped again at what came from the living room next…
“I like your trousers, Michael!”
This HAD to be about the washing… it HAD to be!
‘Say it… say it…’ I thought, quite unkindly, but I couldn't help myself.
“I like… your jumper, Michael!”
Titters and whispers. Pause. Michael grabbed the front door and began to close it.
‘Say it…!’ I mentally urged. ‘Say it…!’
Then finally…
“I like your… PANTS!”

They all dissolved into ridiculous shrieks and howls, quite out of proportion for the situation to any normal human being — but not, of course, if you’re a nine or ten-year-old girl and you’ve just seen your best friend’s thirteen-year-old’s brother’s undies! Not just that, but he wears really childish briefs like the boys at your primary school! Teenagers wear boxers, don’t they? Not little pants with footballs on them.

I could see from the look on his face he was REALLY embarrassed and was fighting hard to ignore the shrill, hysterical laughter coming from the other room. As much as I wanted to stay and hear what else these younger girls had to say (I can’t deny, I was really excited at that point), I didn’t want to cause my friend any more embarrassment by hanging around a moment longer. I bid him a hasty “See ya, man,” and he closed the door on me quickly.

I didn’t dare mention anything of what I’d unfortunately witnessed come Monday morning at school, or indeed ever. I knew it was entirely between him and his annoying little sister. I did think about it quite a lot for the next few weeks though, and liked to imagine what more they might have done to embarrass him once I’d left!

[Jeepman89]

Maybe they surprised him coming out of the bathroom after a shower wearing just a towel? Imagine the girls pulling off his towel and leaving him totally bare naked in the hall? LOL

[Robert Brooks]

Might have to add a fictional part two then

As I say, I loved to imagine what else the girls got up to that night!

[Jeepman89]

Go for it! I would love to see where you would take this story. It's begging for a continuation.

[Supermario17]

This is a great story. As you said a fictional branch off would have some great potential too.

[Robert Brooks]

Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it
I’ll see what I can come up with