The best way to describe my wife, Angie, is as a highly medicated free spirit. In our family’s world there are three ways of doing things. The right way, the wrong way, and any way Angie sees fit. In Angie’s way, logic is conveniently left out, as is quite a lot of forethought and planning.
My youngest son, Tristan came home one summer day along with one of his buddies to discover mom in the backyard cleaning the pool in a bathing suit top and granny panties. The young friend, knowing of the Angie way, was quite impressed but greatly disturbed at the same time. Tristan of course was mortified and urgently requested that his mother please put some clothes on.
“I have clothes on and what are you doing home so early?” was his mother’s reply.
No explanation was offered for the unique outfit.
On another occasion I was getting after Tristan for his hair style, which is a cross between the Beatles and Ozzie Osborne, depending on whether there was a comb involved in that day’s style. Of course, Angie heard this and reacted in her protective momma bear way by running out of the bedroom into the living room and exclaiming.
“Derek! Leave him alone!”
“Mom!” exclaimed her son.
“You’re in your underwear!”
“Oh!” said the momma bear as she beat a hasty retreat to her den.
All through our 30 years together Angie has been delighting me with her “world”. Once we were going out to dinner with my parents during our courtship when I noticed a large lump of hair at the inside knee area of her pantyhose. When I pointed out this furry phenomenon she exclaimed with her usual “Oh!” and proceeded to reach down her pantyhose to remove the offending item right there and then. This was not what I expected as we had only reached first base in our relationship and I wasn’t quite sure if this was even on the normal play list. Maybe it could be referred to as a short stop or foul ball but I was quite sure it didn’t involve any of the then known “base system” in the 1970‘s dating manual.
One of Angie’s many admirable qualities is her obsession with not embarrassing anyone in any way, shape or form. Anything Angie thinks may be even slightly offensive is quickly dealt with in her own unique way.
On one occasion she was driving up to Yuba City with a married couple we know. Just as they were about to leave Angie remembered that she lacked the necessary “feminine products” she needed for the day. She rushed back into the house to collect them and discovered that she didn’t bring anything to put the allegedly offensive items in so as not to embarrass the husband of the couple.
This is again an example of Angie’ unique thought processes as most people would assume that he would know all about theses feminine hygiene accessories as he had been married to his wife for quite some time.
Angie’s solution to this dilemma was to stuff three of these things into her bra. Of course, by the time she got back to the car she had entirely forgotten about the “stowaways”. It wasn’t until she visited the lady’s room later that day that she remembered she had them but couldn’t quite recall where she put them. She improvised the needed items and when she went to wash her hands, she looked in the mirror to see a large pink package sticking up between her “mommy melons” and out of her blouse. Her friend stood in quiet shock as Angie let out a loud
“Oh! There you are!” and proceeded to dig around her ample bosom and produce two more.
Just recently, Angie had called a friend of ours who owns a company that does carpet cleaning to get a large area rug cleaned in our living room. The young man who was dispatched to our home turned out to be one of our kid’s childhood friends.
After the job was done Angie sat on the couch across from him chatting about the past and the kids while she made out the check. After he left, she walked by the full length mirror in our bedroom and noticed a slight problem with the pajama bottoms she was wearing. It appeared that the two pieces of material at the seam of the crotch area had had a serious disagreement and decided to totally separate from each other. This left Angie’s “nether regions” fully exposed. According to Angie, undergarments are accessories that are not always necessary in her opinion and usually only gets put on when she remembers it. Now Angie is in a panic, thinking that she has scarred this young man for life.
Most normal thinking people would just adopt the attitude of “let a sleeping dog lie”. Angie does not have that type of thought pattern. Her logic is a more like “poke the sleeping dog with a stick until it tries to bite you”. She immediately got on the phone and called me, all our children and the company owner’s wife to try to explain the unexplainable. To Angie’s relief our son, Ben, called Mike to inquire of his mental state and to see if he had sworn off the female species for life. Mike informed by him that none of his mother’s offending body parts were observed and expressed his appreciation for the heads up to keep his head down when around middle-aged women with blown out pajamas.
Now the ring tone for Angie on my cell phone is the theme song by Queen from the 1980’s movie “Flash Gordon”. Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum, dum FLASH!- – — – – AH-AH- AAHH!”
Our #3 child, Ashley, has been the most affected by her mother’s clothing optional world, however, with constant therapy and counseling I think we can get her through it. She holds the record in “naked mom” sightings.
When Ashley was a teenager she reached that point of normal annoyance with her parents, especially her mother, which all 16-year-old females do. My daughter’s pet peeve was that her mother insisted that she kept her bedroom windows shut at night as Angie was afraid of intruders entering to molest her. If this happened, I would fear for the intruder as Ashley can get quite violent, not to mention physical, when rudely awakened.
One night Angie woke me up to inform me that she was sure Ashley had left the window open again. She wanted me to go check it out. As this was not one of my greatest concerns, and the fact that she woke me up, I was not willing to comply. Angrily muttering to herself about her useless husband she got up and grumbled “Fine! I’ll do it myself!”
Angie sleeps in the same nightgown that she wore when she was born, nude. She crept into Ashley’s room only to discover that her dark suspicions were correct, as the window was indeed open. My beloved wife decided to lean across our sleeping daughter to shut it. She did not realize that Ashley had left a glass of water on the windowsill. Of course, gravity being what it is, and the fact that Angie is involved, the water ends up being spilled onto Ashley’s head. Ashley rose her head to begin protesting her rude awakening only to have her cheek slapped with a hanging mom boob as Angie tried to beat a hasty retreat. This produces screams and shouting from both of them. I heard this from my room and happily rolled over and put my pillow over my head until the ruckus died down, grateful that I was not involved. Angie didn’t say anything when she slipped back into bed, but it took 2 days for Ashley to come out of the fetal position she assumed after this event.
It was within two weeks of this fiasco that Angie again awakened me to tell me that she, again, was sure that Ashley had left her window open. My response was the same as usual,
“Let them take her”.
Angie of course decided to go check it out herself and crept out of our room to peek into Ashley’s room. The sight that greeted my daughter as she returned from the kitchen with her glass of water was a clear view of her mother’s bare backside as she poked her head into her room.
“OH MY GOD!….. MOM!” she shouted.
This started Angie screaming, the water flew out, resulting in more screaming and yelling, more therapy for Ashley and another story for me.