When the movie Failure to Launch came out one of the scenes played over and over was the one where the father, Terry Bradshaw, announces that he is going to have a naked room, now that his adult son is moved out of his home. It was hilarious to the young. To those of us with adult children still living at home, it rang so true.
I want to be the first to say this, because then others may feel better about voicing their opinions. I am sick and tired of getting DRESSED to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. And right here, I must thank Melissa on Twitter, for giving me the courage to say what I must. I have not walked around my house in a t-shirt and panties since my youngest was on a summer internship in Baltimore. My husband and I went nuts. You would have thought we were brand new Nudist converts in our zeal for walking about naked or in very little clothing, especially during a Texas summer. When she came home we were angry, upset. When her two older brothers moved back into the house we pretty much gave up hope of ever being comfortable in our own home.
Walking around the house naked is the God given right to every home-owner, rent-payer. In fact, if they hadn't been so prissy after the Revolution, I'm pretty sure it would be a Constitutional right. Talk about Natural Rights, yeah? After years of keeping dressed because there were young men and scads of girls spending the night in my house, I was soooo ready for the last chick to leave the nest just so I could walk around in whatever I wanted, regardless of scarcity of material or state of fabric. If the husband happens to want a free-balling night on the couch, then he should be able to do that. Not that he ever has or would, he's a little "not Dutch" that way. But he should be able to if the desire ever hit him to do so.
I understand that, without a privacy fence, I should not walk about my back yard sans clothing. It's better for the whole world that way. But, you know what? If I did have a privacy fence and within my own extensive gardens, I should be allowed to go sky-clad if I wish. I should not be held fashion hostage to the perv with a telescope and the nosy Parker with binoculars who invade my privacy by snooping around. I have a friend with a pool who has had to forego late skinny dips because her new neighbors like to get up on their roof and watch. But, think about it a moment, if they so chose, they could call the cops and have her arrested for indecent exposure. For swimming in her privacy fence surrounded pool.
This isn't some pro-nudity rant. I'd much rather no one saw me naked except the two men who are either contractually obligated to do so or get paid to. I feel for both men as I feel that no one should be forced into viewing that which is unattractive and my flabby, middle-aged body is just that. But you know what? It's my body and should be able to walk around with whatever I want covering it up in my own home.
The minute the kids are finally out for good, I'm going to run around here screaming and laughing in nothing but my underwear. My Wonder Woman underwear.
I want to be the first to say this, because then others may feel better about voicing their opinions. I am sick and tired of getting DRESSED to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. And right here, I must thank Melissa on Twitter, for giving me the courage to say what I must. I have not walked around my house in a t-shirt and panties since my youngest was on a summer internship in Baltimore. My husband and I went nuts. You would have thought we were brand new Nudist converts in our zeal for walking about naked or in very little clothing, especially during a Texas summer. When she came home we were angry, upset. When her two older brothers moved back into the house we pretty much gave up hope of ever being comfortable in our own home.
Walking around the house naked is the God given right to every home-owner, rent-payer. In fact, if they hadn't been so prissy after the Revolution, I'm pretty sure it would be a Constitutional right. Talk about Natural Rights, yeah? After years of keeping dressed because there were young men and scads of girls spending the night in my house, I was soooo ready for the last chick to leave the nest just so I could walk around in whatever I wanted, regardless of scarcity of material or state of fabric. If the husband happens to want a free-balling night on the couch, then he should be able to do that. Not that he ever has or would, he's a little "not Dutch" that way. But he should be able to if the desire ever hit him to do so.
I understand that, without a privacy fence, I should not walk about my back yard sans clothing. It's better for the whole world that way. But, you know what? If I did have a privacy fence and within my own extensive gardens, I should be allowed to go sky-clad if I wish. I should not be held fashion hostage to the perv with a telescope and the nosy Parker with binoculars who invade my privacy by snooping around. I have a friend with a pool who has had to forego late skinny dips because her new neighbors like to get up on their roof and watch. But, think about it a moment, if they so chose, they could call the cops and have her arrested for indecent exposure. For swimming in her privacy fence surrounded pool.
This isn't some pro-nudity rant. I'd much rather no one saw me naked except the two men who are either contractually obligated to do so or get paid to. I feel for both men as I feel that no one should be forced into viewing that which is unattractive and my flabby, middle-aged body is just that. But you know what? It's my body and should be able to walk around with whatever I want covering it up in my own home.
The minute the kids are finally out for good, I'm going to run around here screaming and laughing in nothing but my underwear. My Wonder Woman underwear.
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