Towels

If you’d been peeking into my backyard the other night about 10PM you would have been treated to the sight of my husband not once but twice running out to retrieve and put away tools he’d been using on the roof reno earlier that evening. The treat part, well maybe just for me, was that he was in his towel. Actually, towels could almost be considered part of his wardrobe. I laughed when I realized he’d been out like that. He didn’t see anything wrong in it. It was dark after all, and it isn’t as if our neighbors have much of a view of our backyard. Out where we live most yards and houses are sheltered by trees and shrubs, not to mention the garages and privacy fences and RV’s that are typical of the back yard parking areas that connect to the alley. I think the real reason that I laugh is that it’s interesting that I should have found and married a man who is more casual than I am about running about in towels or less. My habits stem from years on my own, but his I chalk up to his exotic Canadian roots. Canadians drop drawers for outdoor tinkling without much thought really, so it stands to reason that running about in towels isn’t any big deal to them.

Of perhaps his lack of modesty is a male thing? In the locker room at the gym the other morning I was drawn into a conversation on nudity etiquette. It began with a woman fresh from the shower and trying to pull on her panties before dropping her towel, which is something I do to if there are a lot of other women around and the quarters are tight. When I have elbow room and there women are familiar to me, I just drop the towel and dress. Though I have to admit I sometimes do this just to make people uncomfortable when I get the feeling they disapprove of my changing out in the open as opposed to gathering up all my things and heading to the draped cubicles. The conversation covered a range of topics within the larger context, but we reached the unanimous conclusion that age and experience and above all comfortable confidence in your body that the aforementioned bring to many women eventually are the chief reasons that we eventually drop the modest act and just get dressed.

I have told Rob that if we ever get to the timeshare in St. Martin, I want to try the nude side of the beach. Not that I have anything spectacular to share with the world. It’s not about the world. It’s about being comfortable and confident in me. That is something I see in Rob that I find incredibly attractive, and I think his influence has helped further my own ease with myself. So, I guess it’s not really about towels or “neckidness”, is it.