Ode to clothes

So, just after writing about my last post on religion, a miraculous thing happened. I went to the laundry room, reached down in the hamper absentmindedly for an armful of dirty clothes to wash and felt…nothing.

Hmm…that’s odd, I thought.

I then peered into the bin and discovered an amazing thing—I had gotten caught up on all of the laundry! Every item of clothing in my house, down to the last stray sock, had been washed. I don’t think this has happened since 1997. This may not seem note-worthy, but if you are a mom (or dad) who is responsible for the laundry, then you know what a momentous occasion this is.

Now that I’m caught up, I am considering joining a nudist colony. After all, do we really need clothes?

Actually, I know the answer to this one. You see, when my husband and I were on our honeymoon, we took a stroll off the property of the all-inclusive resort where we were staying. After a little while, we noticed the “scenery” began to change a bit. In fact, several of the joggers who passed us weren’t wearing shirts. Oh, did I mention that they were NOT men? (Ladies, there is a good reason jog-bras were invented.)

Since we were honeymooners, we pretended not to notice as we held hands and continued our romantic walk down the beach. That is until we reached a sign that read: “NO CLOTHING BEYOND THIS POINT.”

Our eyes grew wide as we realized that we had stumbled onto a nude beach. About that time, a man whom I estimate to be 70 years walked by completely naked. He looked like he needed ironing. In addition, several large women were sunning themselves, cellulite and all, by the sea. They were not sitting very lady-like either, I might add.

I now knew why God invented fig leaves. We really need to cover up.

My husband and I looked at one another, glanced down at our clothes, turned around, and walked, okay, ran, the other way.

And on that day, I vowed never to complain about doing laundry again. Now about those unmatched socks…