Modesty At Its Finest

To say I grew up in a conservative home would be an understatement. My dad was, and is strict. Rules of modesty were strictly adhered to, not that I had a body that I would want to flaunt. I was round as a kid....really really round. Honestly, almost a sphere. That is beside the point, shoulders and knees were rarely seen inside the house, let alone outside.

Anyway, in my less round days, around the age of twenty, I bought this great dress. I still own and wear this dress some *cough* seven years later. It is a stretchy black material with a burgundy floral chiffon overlay. It was very in circa 2001. It have a high neckline, to the collarbone. It is ankle length. Its major drawback? It is sleeveless and has a deep-V back almost to the bra line. Not a problem for this little Mormon girl. I simple bought a cute black ribbed cardigan to go over it. I don't like my arms anyway, so I am NEVER tempted to take off the sweater....well almost never.

I was living at home with my parents in between semesters one summer. They had just moved to eastern Washington state, and the change in climate was more than I could handle. It was something like 5,000 degrees outside this particular day. Okay really it was about 107 degrees, but I grew up in Wyoming where you were shouting summer's praises when it his 60. Anyway, we got home from church and I was just roasting in aforementioned dress. I went into my room and innocently took off my little cardigan. I figured it wouldn't be a big deal, it was just my parents and I at home. I then went out into the kitchen and commenced reading the comics.

Not five minutes later, my dad comes into the kitchen looks at me like I was dressed in a micro mini and plastic knee high boots, and says gruffly, "Kimberly, (he ALWAYS calls me Kimberly, in trouble or not, the only person who does this) could you please go and put some clothes on."

I was annoyed in my as-rebellious-as-I-get post teenage way, and grudgingly agreed. On the way back to my bedroom, I got this great idea. I put my sweater back on and then, to show my dad how ridiculous he was being, I took my bath towel wrapped it over my head and across my face so only my eyes were peeking out. Now anyone who knows my dad, knows that this was not a wise choice. He is not a man to be mocked. Nonetheless, I strode back down the hall, giggling all the way. When I got to the kitchen I said, "Is THIS covered enough for you Dad?" The look in his eyes wasn't the friendliest look I've ever seen, luckily, my mom found me absolutely hilarious. She burst out laughing, which made me laugh even harder.

My memory of what happened next is vague, I believe the story ends with my Dad leaving the kitchen muttering something about being glad that there were only 3 weeks of summer left.

Jumping In--Pant less

I'm not sure that I really have much to say. My husband thinks blogs are silly. I told him he doesn't have to read it...and that I would write mean things about him. That isn't true of course. I feel such pressure to write something great, or funny. Here goes, my first blogging story.

When I was in college a series of unfortunate things happened to me, mostly self-inflicted. This is one of them. I came home from class one day and was pleased to find an empty apartment. I was ready to enjoy a few quiet moments, after I went to the bathroom and changed my clothes. You see, I had a routine in college. When I got home I always changed into jeans and a t-shirt, even if I was already wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I would change into different ones. Silly, I know. On this particular day I was wearing dress pants and nylons.

Time out to explain the configuration of the apartment. I went to Ricks College/BYU-Idaho. It was the classic layout which includes a living room/kitchen separated from the bedrooms by a hallway and door. There is one bedroom directly across from the dividing door into the living room. The dividing door provides privacy, and protects virtue...at least that's the idea. Anyway, in our apartment we had a message board right next to the dividing door....Stage set, back to the story.

So, I decide I have to go to the bathroom. I do my business and then think to myself, "Why would I go to the trouble of putting my nylons and pants back on when I'm just going to change as soon as I get my bedroom. I'll just carry my pants. After all, no one is home, I should be safe." And with this flawless logic I went on my pant less way. Did I mention that I live in the front bedroom across from the living room, and the dividing door was presently open?

I get about three steps into the hallway when I realize I am not alone. I look up to see my roommate's friend AND boyfriend standing at the message board mid message. Our eyes meet and I know there is no turning back. I have to do something. I decide it would be best to pretend that nothing is amiss. I confidently stride down the hallway, my not-so-little-thighs proudly flapping in the wind, smile and say, "Hey guys! How's it goin'?" Like I'd been going pant less everyday of my life. I then run (carefully of course, how humiliating would to be for my thighs to slap on the way?) into my room so fast that I barely hear their bewildered, "...hi...." in return.

I stood in my room having a mini panic attack. I waited for them to leave, got dressed and went about my day, determined never to speak of the incident again. Later that night I was lying in bed chatting with my roommate (it was her friends that witnessed my exhibitionist behavior) and said timidly, "Megann, did your friend maybe say something......" My embarrassed question was drown out by her laughing...her hysterical laughing. She finally managed to say that her friend had mentioned that they'd come by earlier in the day and they "saw Kim, and I don't think she had any pants on."