yesterday, the guy from the city who’s in charge of the stupid construction project wanted to let me know they were done with the retaining wall and have me look at it.
he knocked on the door.
I was downstairs checking email, and doing laundry, and did the old housewife joke – I just tossed my jams in the laundry while I was at it. So I was wearing my camisole. Period.
Now, my house is set up such that I have to walk, not exactly past the front door, but definitely in full view of the front door, to get from the basement to the bedroom.
While I’m frozen on the stairs, my naked son runs to the door to see who it is, then back to tell me someone was at the door (yeah, thanks) and that he needed to put on clothes so they didn’t see him naked (too late).
I keep my rain gear by the back door, so I put on the pants, which with my cami at least made me decent so I could sprint to the bedroom for a shirt.
By the time I got the shirt on and scooped up my naked infant, he had wandered back down to the work crew, so I ran out, holding my naked infant, barefoot, in my rain pants (look like running pants) and a Tshirt.
So this is the funny thing: after obviously noticing my naked children and noting my oufit, the man says to me:
“sorry to wake everybody up.”
I nearly burst out laughing, because it was obvious that the only explanation he could think of was that we had al been sleeping. I tried to explain that we’d been up for hours, but only confused him further. Because, why would we all be naked if we’d been up for hours, right?
oh, the life of a SAHM.
(note, friends, since Genna, our family’s on an Up At Seven schedule, no longer our Up At Ten schedule.)