As we returned to our pew after receiving the Eucharist yesterday, I noticed my husband the scientist had a silly grin on his face. While I was also happy to have our Lord flowing through me, I was pretty sure that's not what was forcing him to stifle his laughter. It turns out that his wife - who had talked his ear off all week about modesty, who had gone out and bought a new modest dress to wear to church, who had given him a mini-lecture when walking in about the importance of dressing nice for church and how disrespectful it was to wear jeans - had in her new-found zeal for modesty forgotten one of the oldest rules in the book.
No lacy underwear when you wear a clingy dress.