Commando
Every time I go in public with the ruffians it is inevitable that there will be a bathroom break. We stake out the handicapped stall (after all, what woman with three kids five and under isn’t impaired, at least for awhile?!) and take turns heading to the potty.
It never fails.
The ruffians go first because their bladder control is more questionable and then I go. But, of course, they are done and careening around the stall like pinballs. On the worst days it happens:
They open the stall door while Mommy dearest is sitting on the throne.
I immediately cower down into the smallest ball possible while screeching and hope that no one is looking.
But what are the going to see? My bony knees peeking out at them? After all, I am a person who only removes my lower clothing when going to the bathroom, as I understand is common in my circles.
As I was pondering this I wondered what other scenarios create cringe-worthy heaps and I thought of another one: the naked dart across your own house (which is situated in the country where the nearest neighbors are approximately 16 miles away).
It does not matter that no one is there to see you. Should you have a naked crisis, perhaps realizing that a foundation garment is in the dryer and you are in the shower across the house, you give a whole new facet to the word, “commando.”
You dart from sofa to recliner, hunched over to cover your critical points, glancing worriedly toward the windows.
If you have a glass sliding door, forget about it. You’re terribly exposed in the crossing there.
The best choice is to either drop to your belly and military crawl out through the line of sight or go to the farthest point possible from the slider and ninja creep across the wall, hoping the glare of the sun on the sliding glass door will work in your favor against any would-be Peeping Toms who’ve been staking your place out in hopes of catching a glimpse of your hoo-ha.
Maybe it’s just me but I struggle with reveling in the shell that God gave me. I blame Adam and Eve. All was going just great until they got all sneaky with the apple and next thing they know they’re wearing palm fronds around their bodies.
Don’t even want to think about the chafing that caused.
What about you? Do you relate to the potty exposure or naked ninja house attack?
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