We have a naked house. At any point of the day someone who lives here can most likely be found in the suit in which they were born. Naked does not bother me much at all. It does however drive my extremely modest husband, crazy.
I don't think there is anything more delightful then to see a wet from the bath, naked hinny streaking down the hallway using a towel as a cape. But Mr. LbF insists I close the blinds before I do it.
OK it is usually not me.
I do however get reprimanded for changing in front of an open window or walking to the kitchen for a drink of water with nothing on but a grin.
I traced my naked is normal attitude back to my childhood. I remember hanging out with my Mom's best friend, we called Aunt S who lived out in the boonies. We would go spend summer weekends with her and not have to put on a stitch of clothes all day. You could go from running in the sprinkler to building a fort without a hitch. Once in a while a plane would fly over but that was the only person other then us you might see. At dark we would use the outdoor shower that had been heated by the sun all day and get into pj's for bedtime. I always felt so safe and so free out there. You should have seen the look on my husband's face when I told him that charming tale of living like natives. He did not share in my warm and fuzzy feelings at all.
Being married to this prude for so long has modified my behavior enough to keep the peace. However I must tell you it is learned behavior. I know this now because I recognize myself in our daughter Curly. This girl has what her Daddy refers to as "no shame". You can walk by the bathroom anytime and catch her sitting, pants around her ankles. I try to shut the door but next thing you know she has me caught up in conversation and handing her toilet paper. With this knowledge in hand the story I am about to tell should come as no surprise.
Last evening we sent Larry and Curly to go bathe and come back to the kitchen for dessert. We have them all set up like big girls with their own bath products in different scents and scrubby poofs.
Larry came back first from her bathroom downstairs smelling like a Mt breeze and in her pj's.
Curly came prancing down the hall already loudly ordering what she wanted as a sweet treat. She was still wet and carrying her clothes in her arms. Her Dad started in as soon as she rounded the corner. He pointed at every open window in the living room and kitchen. Curly unfazed shrugged and laughed as she dropped her pants on the floor and bent over to put them on. Walking around the counter I passed her and said to Mr. LbF "well at least you currently have the better view, I just saw a brown eyed monkey." Curly hearing this, dropped the pants from her hands and ran stark naked to the sliding glass kitchen door yelling "where, where, where did you see a monkey?".
I thought my poor husband might faint. He did not. I was proud of him.