Unable to remember the last time I was this mortified
The underwear was still in the dryer when Button and I got through with our shower this morning. With a towel around my head, I peeked out of the upstairs bedroom door to see if there were any observant passersby through the large window that looks in on our balcony. No one was out there, so I did my Lightning Judo Sprint and rushed across the balcony to the stairs. J gives me a hard time for being paranoid about somebody looking into our house and seeing me naked.
The blinds on the rest of the front windows were closed, so once I made it down the stairs I was pretty much safe. I had left Button in the shower and she was calling something to me, so I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and called back to her.
It was then that I noticed some movement directly in front of me. A man with a tape measure standing at the back door (which is one giant window) was throwing his hand over his eyes and whirling away from the door.
Shrieking some expletive or another, I pulled out another one of my Ninja moves and dove across the living room into the bathroom. The dog started barking. I was trapped in the bathroom with no way to get to my clothing. J came down the stairs after the barking dog and I whimpered something to him about who the hell was looking into our back door and PLEASE BRING ME SOME UNDERWEAR.
He did, but not before stopping by the bathroom to laugh at my misfortune, not unlike the time I stood around laughing at him when Little Button sprayed him with globs of projectile poo three times during the course of a single diaper change. We have that kind of supportive relationship.
Evidently, the Title Company had sent some guys over to do a land survey. J knew they were here because he answered the door while I was in the shower. He swears he yelled upstairs to me that they were here.
I don’t know what was worse: the fact that I full-on exposed myself to a perfect stranger, or his reaction of running away at the sight of my nudity. Perhaps it’s time to do some grooming…
August 10th, 2007 at 5:56 am
Oh, God, ya gotta love those days, eh? I mean, after the mortification factor fades upon realization that you’ve just displayed yourself to somebody new, then the self scrutiny thing plays in with, “What? Am I really THAT bad??” Gah!
I”d have paid to see the Nina moves, though…hehehe!
August 10th, 2007 at 8:39 am
ooh, i can’t count how many times I have done the nudie dash to get something I forgot. I might have to rethink that.
August 10th, 2007 at 11:46 am
I have done the dash many of times. But ours isn’t about the windows, oh no. I will dash downstairs and EVERY time a kid will come in from outside right about the time I am rounding the corner by the front door. Everytime.
Hmmm, I wonder if this is why so many of Braden’s friends hang out in our yard??
pee.ess. no grooming.
August 10th, 2007 at 1:00 pm
I’m dying laughing. That poor guy, I’m sure it’s not because you were scary, but can you imagine what the poor guy might be accused of?
peeping tom or some other gross blunder.
years from now you will be able to laugh at this and add it to your selling the house story.
August 10th, 2007 at 3:39 pm
That’s awful, but I have to admit it gives a hilarious visual! Without fail, if I come out of the bathroom w/o clothes and our blinds ARE closed, Trixi (our pigs real name) will go to the blinds and open them significantly. The 1st time or so I thought it was a coincidence, but around the 10th time, I learned my lesson. She knows what she’s doing! Probably cuz I scream when she does it.
As for this vs. the projectile poo, I’d take this anyday.