I have spent a lot of time naked lately.
Well, you might say, the weather has been heating up a bit.
I should rephrase. I have spent a bit of time being caught, sprung, stuck, stranded in the raw of late.
The first time was the other week, when I was seriously questioning our choice of having a ‘family bedroom’, eg. sharing our sleeping space with Baby. I have not questioned it up until now. Up until the moment, when, I was found: crouched, naked, nude, and hiding from my child behind my bed.
Baby and I had a little battle that morning… me: wanting her to sleep, her: not interested in the slightest. After an hour and a half of stories, patting, shushing, having a break, up and down… she fell asleep. I went and had a much needed shower and as I crept into our room to get dressed a floorboard creaked in the wrong place and… she started to stir. In a slow motion dive screaming noooooooo (silently in my mind) I flew behind the bed. I peeked over the top of the mattress to see her rubbing her eyes, blinking, but then thankfully drifting back to sleep again.
I thought of all the other sensible mothers, the ones that wear aprons and loafers and blow dry their hair, popping their sensible babies into sensible cots in sensible bedrooms and closing the door, free to wander in and out of their own bedroom down the hall, have showers and get dressed at their leisure. I suppose though that these mothers would not be having showers at midday, as I was.
The second situation was just a couple of days ago. I was getting ready to go out for dinner and once again I was in my natural state. There was some clean laundry piled on the couch in our lounge room and I was looking for something to wear. The couch sits below our front windows which face out towards the street. We have a fairly bushy kind of front yard and it was around 6pm. Who would be peering in at that hour? I wandered out to the lounge starkers at the exact moment that a salesman was wandering down our driveway. We caught eyes for what seemed like an eternity. There I stood, startled. A rabbit in headlights, etc. I came to my senses and dove behind the couch motioning madly for Prince Charming, who was on the back deck cooking himself a BBQ dinner, to come inside and answer the door. I stayed there, squatting on the floor, naked, waiting for Prince Charming to usher the salesman away.
The only thing was, Prince Charming was all over the salesman, keen to hear more about his newspaper deal. He kept blowing my cover, popping his head around the corner and asking me questions between his conversation with the salesman, who knew I was there, on the other side of the couch. And we all know that I know that he knew what I was wearing.
Do you want the Age every day of the week?
You only have to pay for the Saturday one. The Saturday one, right?
What do you think?
The rest are free! Free? Are you sure they’re free?
We have to sign a six month contract for that?
Do you want to sign a contract?
I was rather cold by the time Prince Charming finally decided he could get a better newspaper deal through work.
Moral of the story: wear dressing gown permanently.