So I was sitting here this morning cruising the boards and keeping an eye on the babies…
I realized that it had gradually gotten really quite warm in the house and I was actually sweating. I go over to the thermostat and see that Lola has cranked up the dial to take the chill off. Being that she left over an hour ago and that she is thermostatically impaired the dial was set a trfle high.
So what do I do?
Lose the robe. That left me in my t-shirt and flannel boxers. Way comfy.
So I notice that the baby is getting into things (I have to talk to people about leaving stuff where she can get into it). I run across the room and check that she is not going to be in any peril and decide to play with her for a bit. At some point I realize that someone has left the blinds open and the cops will be coming by any time now to check on the old pervert who was flashing kids as they went to school…
Um, Feynn dearest, you had on a t-shirt and boxers, right? Were you somehow falling out of your boxers? (Hey, it happens). Otherwise that is way more clothes than you’d wear at the public beach! You must have really prudish neighbors.
And I’ve been known to open the front door completely nekkid, except for a towel. Frankly, I’m still not sure what the big deal about nekkidness, but I’ll just go along with the crowd…
My wife and I gave the whole neighborhood a show once.
In the apartment we were in at the time, our bedroom window looked out onto the sidewalk, first floor. We were somewhat inspired that afternoon, so there I was with my foot up on the wall, contorted in ways I shant go into, when I slipped. My big toe hooked the drapes and bickety-bam the whole friggin thing comes down. The beast with two backs (and several other body parts in the plural) was on display for the neighborhood.
Feynn, I don’t want to hear another word from you until you have a really, truly embarassing story to tell. They weren’t even old, threadbare boxers! Sheesh…
And no, it doesn’t bother me one bit for people to see me nekkid. I mean, does one nekkid body differ all that much from another?
And I don’t mind seeing other people’s nekkidness, either…much better than seeing some of the clothes people choose to put on themselves.
Not so much nakedness…but window related never-the-less.
The layout: Our bedroom window faces the cul-de-sac we live on, and is right over our bed.
On one particular summer morning…sans kids…we had the window open and were feeling particularly…ummm, randy.
In no time, my very vocal wife was reaching new decibel levels, and a fine time was had by all.
Shortly thereafter, I went outside to get the newspaper. My two neighbors across the court were talking, and immediately broke out laughing when they saw me.
We’ve been pretty good about keeping the window closed ever since.
