Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Naked J

Last night, when I pulled up to my house I thought two things, 1) that shade of aqua that I painted my massage room/office might be a shade too bright and 2) I need to shut those blinds before J flashes the neighborhood.

My husband tends to streak.

Now I understand nudity. I grew up in a house of women, my sister and mother and I were very comfortable with ourselves and my dad was frequently away on business. We were a naked family and proud of it. I am not uncomfortable about that.

But we also had a strong sense of when to put that away.

Like when my grandparents came to visit. My parents claim that they have never seen their parents in so much as a bathrobe and as extreme as that claim sounds it may very well be true. It is entirely possible that my grandparents were all born dressed and now shower dressed and are never naked. I am not sure. So when they came to visit we were never naked either. Bathrobes were worn. We even wore shoes in the house.

J doesn't have this instinct. It never occurs to him that his nudity is upsetting to people. I mean he would never walk down the street naked (sober at any rate). But before I broke him of the habit he had answered the door in his boxers. And when Travis lived with us he would often horrifying Travis by forgetting a towel when taking a bath. I tried to explain about how Travis was raised in Nebraska, how he was raised differently, how he is uncomfortable. J would always ask how anyone could be uncomfortable if he himself was not.

But he does walk around naked in the house. This is fine. It doesn't bother me. We live alone.

As long as he remembers what rooms do not have blinds.

I do not need phone calls from the neighbors about how their retinas burned off from watching him dance to the Ramones naked.

6:40 a.m. :: comment ::
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