Maybe I missed my calling. I appear to be missing the inhibition gene. One day, a couple weeks ago, I realized that we left the swim platform out in the lake, and there was a storm coming… and we were going out of town for the weekend. I don’t like to leave it anchored out there because the anchor can move and it can damage someone’s boat (mostly ours or our next door neighbor’s). After I worked out, I contemplated changing into a swimsuit to retrieve the platform, but I was gross and didn’t want to peel off my clothes and struggle into a suit, damp with my own sweat. And really, a work out bra and black underwear (which I happened to have on at the time) look just like my two piece suit. So, I marched down to the dock and peeled off my workout clothes for anyone to see, if anyone was looking in my general area at that time on a weekday. Then, I dove into the water. Turns out, underwear and swimsuit bottoms are NOT the same. Fortunately, I caught the underwear with my feet, as it attempted to free itself from my body. As I pulled them back into place, I realized that I didn’t bring a towel down to the water, and it would have been awkward to get out of the lake with no bottoms on. It also would have been difficult to find black underwear in the lake water. And my shorts were about 10 yards away. Hmmmm. Perhaps my plan was not well thought out. But everything worked out, if you consider it normal to strip to my undies on the dock in broad daylight to take a swim. Meh. 

Then, a couple days ago, Travis and I were attempting to weed our yard. Not the front hill, mind you. On the front hill, creeping Charlie is considered a ground cover. It competes with English ivy and poison ivy. I actually mow it so it isn’t out of control… or more out of control. We were just weeding the more tame sections of our yard. I hate weeding. I hate any yard work besides mowing. We were on the side of our house when out of the weeds came a wasp. That wasp got caught in my shorts or underwear. I was screaming some things that cannot be written on this blog. Travis ran over, but was at a loss for what to do as I jumped around slapping my own ass. Finally, I whipped my shorts off and nearly pulled my underwear off as well. It was probably a sweat bee and not a wasp, since I wasn’t swelling from multiple stings, but still, it hurt. As I was dancing around with barely my underwear on (since I wanted to make sure the wasp was out of my underwear), Travis was laughing. Then he said, “I don’t know whether to tip you or the wasp for the show.” I responded, “That was bad naked.” To which Travis replied, “Babe, with you, there is no bad naked.” And that is why we have been married for 31 years. 

Now, the neighbors may not agree with Travis, but maybe nobody saw my second striptease, despite the loud screams. With my track record for public displays of indecency, I am bound to upset someone at some point. But for now, all is fine, and the police are none the wiser. Have a great week everyone! Beware the hidden wasps!