At least they're married

Our landlord called at 10am yesterday to let me know that him and an appraiser would be stopping by later in the day.  "Would you mind making sure the apartment is tidied up?"  To which a cloudy image of myself saying, "Sure!  No problem.  We live in a perpetual state of Better Homes and Garden, so nothing out of the ordinary needs to be done."  Then I blinked, looked around, and panicked. "Oh gosh.... ohgoshohgoshohgosh!"

Needless to say we got it all picked up and decent enough that I would be okay with letting my friends come over and see it.  But it wasn't ready for anyone like, say, the president or my inlaws. 
Just keepin' it real.

The  appraiser and my landlord came by, looked around, took pictures, and left all in about 8 minutes.  Then life was back to normal.  UNTIL I SAW IT.  My bra.  Hanging.  On the doorknob.  In the hallway.  Where these two dudes had just stood.

Call me old fashioned (cause I know I am) but I immediately was embarassed that these two men had just seen my underwear.  At least they weren't my maternity panties.  Or my "in the bedroom only" underwear.  Let's not go there, but you get the point. 

Kendall just laughed and said "Well, at least they're married."