This weekend I was thinking about my friend Peggy and this little girl she used to babysit when we were in high school in the 06880. The girl's name was Shannon but we called her Shamu (not a whale reference, just a nickname). She was adorable. Her tongue stuck out just a little. I don't remember why.
One day we took Shamu to Compo Beach. At the end of the day we brought her into the changing room to get cleaned up. Even with two of us watching one small child, Shamu managed to get away. She made it out of the changing rooms and started running down the beach. I actually heard someone yell, "Naked running baby. Naked running baby." Sorry Shamu's mother if you ever find this post.
We caught up with her before she made it to Norwalk and brought Shannon home safely later that day.
I was thinking about how cute a naked baby is and how comfortable pretty much all kids are with nudity while they're still young. My son was literally a nudist until a few years ago. Suddenly. I have to close my eyes, turn my head, close the door. I understand. He's growing up and he certainly doesn't want his mother to see his prized possession.
My husband wants a nude photo of me. This is pretty much the most terrifying request my husband has ever made. I'm pretty sure I was a nudie just like my son, but now I don't even own a full-length mirror. I think my body is holding its own but things are rearranging themselves without my permission.
On Saturday morning I was getting dressed and my husband snuck up behind me with his tricky iPhone camera / spy gear. I managed to grab a pair of jeans to hide behind but he took a photo just the same. I threatened to mess with his stuff if he didn't delete the photo but he wasn't having it. He didn't even fall for it hours later when I asked if I could borrow his phone.
Later he showed me the photo and the thing is, I was sort of shocked that I looked pretty good. Granted the parts I managed to cover up would've been the worst of it.
I was wondering how we go from gleefully running naked toward a crowd of beachgoers to my cowering in the corner of the bedroom shielding myself with a pair of jeans. "Naked running baby. Naked running baby."
NB My husband and I exchanged the following messages as he was riding the train into the City:
I'm looking at your nudie pic . . .
Don't show anyone!
Too late, my 2 seat mates love your hair! JK! LOL!
Lol
That is a bold story. Hooray for you. I think my wife would react similarly except for the fear of her future political career (never happening of course) and her half-naked image ending up where she doesn't want it seen.
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting Powderroom. I used to work in DC on Capitol Hill. Tell your wife nudie pictures are the least of her worries should she pursue a career in politics.
ReplyDelete