One of my neighbours popped by on Saturday to ask my advice on something – because I’m so wise…or maybe because I was the only one home. But anyway, she said I could blog about it even though she never reads blogs and maybe doesn’t really understand what a blog I, although I did my very best to explain it to her.
Saturday morning — let’s call her Molly, although that’s not her real name — got up bright and early and sent her husband and youngest son off to the boy’s hockey practice or hockey game or whatever it is hockey kids do at 5:00 am on a Saturday. Since she was up and since her other son, a teenager, was dead to the world in his room, Molly decided to get some housework done and then enjoy a leisurely breakfast.
After Molly finished cleaning, she even whipped up a batch of her famous breakfast buns before hopping in the shower. The day is off to a spectacular start! It’s not even 9:00 o’clock and she has most of her Saturday chores done already.
And then it all goes horribly wrong.
Molly gets out of the shower and realizes that there are no towels in the bathroom since she’s put them all in the wash. There’s a linen cupboard in the hall outside the bathroom door with more towels, but Molly suddenly gets a bright idea. She decides it would really help her enjoy her decadent morning breakfast if she could wrap up in a hot towel out of the dryer and then put on some hot-out-of-the-dryer clothes.
So out of the bathroom she scurries and heads down to the basement to fetch her warm, cuddly togs.
Except she’s still wet from the shower.
And so slips halfway down to the basement and bounces on her ass the rest of the way down the stairs.
She’s completely winded and in shock and spread-eagle on the basement floor, buck naked, when her teenaged son pops his head around the basement door.
Was he awakened by the noise of her fall or the delightful aroma of Molly’s breakfast buns? Who knows? All she remembers is his rumpled, half-awake appearance and the horrified look in his eyes as if he’s found himself in the middle of his worst nightmare.
“Holy shit” was all he said.
Molly, being winded, could only respond with some belaboured grunts, “Uhnnn, uhnnn, uhnn.”
The boy, getting his priorities straight, grabbed a blanket off the sofa and went down to throw it on his mom before asking her if she was all right.
Molly is all right — physically. She has a bruised and very sore coccyx and one of her elbows hurts, but otherwise she’s okay. Her son, however, hasn’t been able to look her in the eye since that morning and scurries out of the room whenever she’s around. Molly reckons if only she hadn’t been in quite such a splayed posture it wouldn’t be so bad. He’s probably seen glimpses of her butt or boobs during the course of 16 years of everyday life, but he’s never seen his mom looking like a poorly-staged Hustler centerfold. She thinks their relationship will never be the same again.
(The breakfast buns, by the way, were saved in the nick of time.)
She doesn’t know if she should say anything. She doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to see her as a mom again. She doesn’t know what the hell he was doing up so early. And in the middle of this angstful monologue, Molly says, “Well, there’s another thing I can add to my list of things never to do when I’m naked.” At which point I stopped listening to her and started wondering if she actually has a list like that and what might be on it.
So I interrupt her moaning about her parental woes and asked her.
“Oh, you know, the usual,” she said, looking surprised at the question. “Frying bacon, bathing the cat, sliding down a banister. Then we laughed and started thinking of other things you shouldn’t do in the nude. And then we started making a list of careers you should avoid if you want to be naked all the time.
It’s interesting really how many jobs you could do without danger, legalities aside, if you were naked. There are a few though that would probably create too many problems to be worth the unfettered freedom. For instance:
- Hot dog vendor
- Accordion player
- Prison guard
- Rodeo cowboy
- Hockey player
- Tap dancer on Sesame Street
 These things are amazing. They’re like cinnamon buns but denser made with lots of eggs and nuts and raisins and other stuff and no sugar – just a bit of a maple glaze on top. A half one of these is a complete breakfast.