Dancin' in the Drawers

OK

So Big Daddy was out of town the first part of this week.  It was a well deserved break from the daily grind of the heat and air business.  He got to travel down Texas way where he toured a plant and got wined and dined.

“Good for him!” says I.  For he works hard and deserves a little time away from the garment factory.

I came home of an evening to an empty house.  A house where the thunder of silence was ringing in my ears.

I headed back to the bedroom to shuck out of my big girl clothes and into my play pants.  Standing there in my drawer tail a thought occurred to me.

“I need a glass of wine!”

So I turned and grabbed my robe off the peg.

I looked at it a moment.

Then another.

Then another.

With a rebellious thrust, I threw my robe on the bed and walked to the kitchen in my bra and underbritches.

Yes I did too!

I strode down the hall and through the living room clad in nothing but my under pinnings.  I went to the counter, grabbed my bottle and a glass, and walked back through the rest of the house.

Yep. 

Both ways.

In just my drawers. 

Once I got back to the bedroom I turned on the radio and dug in my closet for an adequate fitting pair of jeans.

But  before I could get them on, a song came on that I hadn’t heard in years.  And before I knew it, I was dancing.  That crazy 80’s dancing that only folks growing up in the 80’s knows about.  It involves a lot of bouncing and hair flinging.

Made bold by my previous foray, I danced down the hall and into the living room. From there I made my way back to the kitchen and went clear around the table.  I waved at the dogs out the window and made haste for the living room and another round around the chairs in front of the big screen.

At this point I felt a little guilty.  I knew Big Daddy would certainly get a kick out my drawer dancing and would want to know why I didn’t perform this activity more often.

...when he was home!

As I rounded the corner back to the hall, the sound of three laughing young men came bursting through the front door and it was suddenly evident why I didn’t.

I slammed my bedroom door behind me horrified and obscenely out of breath.

“Mom, are you OK?”

Gulp. “Fine, everything is fine!”

That was too close.

I came back out of the bedroom fully clothed and barking orders-Something about mowing and dog watering.  My little venture into wild abandonment abandoned.

But not forgotten.

Something to look forward to when the nest is empty, heh?

This was the song... It put a little shimmy in my backside.