Dress Code

First of all, HAI, new blogger interface! Sure would've been nice to get an introduction to you before you moved in, but hey. If I made it through college living with strangers, I can make it living with you. We can get to know each other. Stay up late. Fight about TV channels. Sing songs to try to cover up the dance krewe practicing on our porch until midnight.

Today I went by my folks' place, and my dad was napping. In his underclothes. He woke up when I came in, and scurried to the kitchen to find some real wrappings. (Please don't ask why my father keeps his clothes in the kitchen. That's a question I don't think anyone could answer.)

But watching him scurry, I thought, why are you dressing for me? You didn't dress for your wife, with whom you live. Yet something tells you that lying around in your undergarments in the family room is just fine for her. Made me think of days when GPOM wanders the house in his underwear. Not that he doesn't look great in just that. Maybe I'm just fussy?

When I come home, I immediately change into what I consider "house clothes" - cotton pants and a T-shirt, the first generally from Lands' End and the other from any law school which admitted me or any event I've attended. But if someone were to come by, I wouldn't be completely humiliated. It's my house, I can be bra-less if I choose.

I guess I just don't understand the attire of pure comfort versus the attire of covering up for others.