A few weekends ago they each had a friend stay over at their father’s while he and his girlfriend went out to dinner.” I frown as I listen. “They got drunk from his bar and cut the crotches out of all of his girlfriend’s underwear.” Aaron laughs, and my eyes widen in horror. “And”—she sips her drink—“when their father asked them about it, they said that the underpants had rotted because her vagina was contaminated.” I burst out laughing. “No.” She shakes her head in disgust. “I wish I was joking.”
