Showing the Tit-ay while taking out the trash (or other ways to scare the neighbors)

I am a modest dresser, but I’m not a prude in my thinking or actions concerning “being covered up”. When I was a child I clearly can remember my parents telling me to shut the curtains in my bedroom, “Because someone might see you.” “Well, yes they might. And if they do, then they’ll just have to deal with it”, was my attitude. They were also not too pleased that I’d wonder around the house in my sleep ware, which consisted of my dad’s T-shirts and some underwear. I just didn’t get their point. We were family – I was covered up. “What do you mean, “Go put on a robe?”. I’m comfortable just the way I am, thank you.” And walking outside dressed like that? Please. Apparently it was poor form to change the water or get the newspaper – even though I was covered up.

This attitude has followed me though out my adult life too. At my house I leave the curtains open and don’t close them at night. (Please do not send me scary stories about Peeping Tom’s.) I do try and not bend over with my butt sticking out in the street when I pick up my newspaper in the morning. But (ha-ha), it’s pretty dark at 5 am and I am rather confident no one is about. However, trash pickup hours occur during daylight.

For this mornings ensemble I was wearing a “Carolina Blue” (aka sky blue to the rest of the world) flannel plaid pajama top and bottoms. This particular PJ top has a problem with the buttons. I think the holes are too big for the buttons. So it’s constantly coming undone. I am so tired of re-buttoning it, I’ve just begun to wear it like a jacket as it unbuttons itself.

So here I am, lugging the kitchen garbage to the curb-side trash can, then rolling it to the curb. As I do this, a button comes undone. I walk back into the house. Another button on my PJ top comes undone. I ignore them. I haul the bottles and tin cans out to the recycle box. Now I have yet another bottom button undone; one at the top of the shirt, one in the middle, and one at the top – all are undone. But there are 4 or 5 on this top, so I ignore them. Next I grab the stack of newspapers from the basket and take them out to the recycling box. As I hoist the box, the final button comes undone. And because I’m not THINKING, I just shrug my shoulder and continue down the driveway to the street. It’s not until I start to lean over and set the box down do I catch sight of my tit-ay – hanging out for the entire neighborhood to see. *sigh*

So if you live in my neighborhood, I hope you saw me quickly (while trying to be discreet, mind you) buttoning up my top. Yep, that’s my neighborhood, just one a red-faced redhead – looking around to see if anyone noticed I was flashing them.