Me, I get to thinking about the gusset; I get to wondering just what it is I’m up to here. I mean, is this about getting my unfolding life down? And if so, what has the gusset to do with it? Why all this time sewing—in gussets?

And I get to thinking that I love the very gusset—this dear, imperative little cotton insert keeping me coddled while gamely serving an unglamorous purpose; this darling little insert destined for a short life, for the inevitable stain and so-woe; for the bin.

Why am I doing this? Search me. If you can.

Me, I guess I’ll slowly get to know a bit more about myself. And maybe you will too. If you care.

Oh: And by the way, T.B. is not the big bad wolf. T.B. lives with me, see, and is my one special love.