Then out of no where this black thing hit the camper van. Glenn says he saw it flying off the back of the van . In my mind it hit us straight on. Right in front of Glenns face. I actually thought it was a big bird that splattered across the window.
“ What the F…!!!! WAS THAT?” He yelled swerving and nearly coming off the road. I stuttered, “nothing…um ..not …sure…” He repeated “WTF!!!!” Several times until I whispered in my best Bridget Jones english voice. “ My knickers.”
“What do you mean your knickers!!!!” He shouted at me in disbelief looking at me as if I didn’t have any on…
“My knickers” I mumbled with the mortified knowledge that he wasn’t go to let this go.
“Why are your knickers flying through the air” he laughed enjoying my discomfort and red cheeks.

I’d washed them and not wanting to draw attention to my rather large ugly big girl knickers had discreetly chosen to dry them on the side mirror, thinking I’d remember that they were there….
Hum nothing discreet about flying knickers!! Or the fact this has become the most told story about me.
Hoping we could leave my sad knickers and hurry up and get a coffee I sighed deeply.
Glenn stoped the van, abruptly screeching to a halt. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Nothing.. but you are going over there to pick up your knickers!!” He laughed reversing the van and the trailer back to the spot where the knickers landed.
“No !!!! Just leave them!” I protested, imagining getting run over picking them up.
“No way! You are not littering the South Island with your knickers!!!”
So off I went and picked them up. By then Glenn was enjoying himself immensely and unknown to me was photographing me picking them up.