By Dick Taylor – Melfort, Sask.
Back when I was young, our main mode of transportation was on foot. We thought nothing of walking two or three miles to go swimming in someone’s dugout that had no weeds. No plants meant no itch.
Our Uncle Gordon usually had a very clean dugout, so this was a favourite swimming pool.
One day during the heat of summer, four of my friends and I walked three miles to my uncle’s to have a swim. When we arrived we received some bad news.
Six young women were on their way to swim in the same pond. Then there was more bad news. We only had four swimming trunks for five of us!
On our way to the dugout I noticed Aunt Edith had done her washing and her daughter’s undies were hanging to dry. This solved the problem.
As I walked by the clothesline I spied a nice pair of blue panties that I knew would fit me. I quickly picked them off and put them in my pocket. Once in the bush we changed into our trunks and soon were in the water.
What I didn’t know was that those panties were made of the new material, nylon. All you could see of my new suit were the leg bands and the waistband.
This new material was sheer when wet, as any see-through on the market. I swam until everyone left.