After a failed attempt to have LB's cute niece deliver the infamous thong in full Easter garb, I had to settle for leaving said thong in an Easter basket inside one of those plastic eggs. One of my coworkers donated a neon orange friend for it that went inside another egg. The intended recipient was out of town for the week so the basket was found by her realtor. Shortly thereafter, she received a call from her husband asking why there were panties on the coffee table. She said it must have been me, but he insisted that if it had been me, they would be black. The ones he found were orange. Apparently it caused quite a hubbub until the second egg was opened.
I find myself looking over my shoulder frequently now, wondering where they will show up next. . .