Lock the Door, Always

Men are visual creatures. They like porn. (No judgement; so do I.) They like seeing women in lingerie. I call them outfits. Well Matthew loves outfits. He had, at one time, a literal 20-gallon trash bag full of outfits for me. (It’s still not empty. We’re talking dozens and dozens of outfits here.)  Some were complicated: corsets with hooks all the way up the back and clasps for thigh-high stockings. I hate these; too much work. Others were simple: One-piece getups with a hole in the crotch or a V-shaped “strap” like the one Cher wore. Still others were more fun: they came with headbands, Santa hats, webbed stockings, or even elf boots.


There was one outfit that I particularly liked, simply because it was easy to get on and off. (I am all all about practically, if nothing else.) It had a white bra and panties with white feathers around them. The set came with a fake diamond-studded collar and a leash, a headband with cat ears at the top, and a white feathery tail. I was a cat. Meow. The first time I wore this outfit, I dutifully closed the doors to the bedroom and then put on the outfit. I walked over to the bed and sat down just as our oldest daughter Ellie came crashing through the doors. (She was 5.) Apparently she didn’t understand that a closed door meant “No Entry.” She stopped when she saw me, and I grabbed the sheets to cover up my body. Never mind that the cat ears, collar, and leash were still visible. Hanging out as plain as day.

“Hey Sweetheart,” I said. “What do you need?” She wanted to tell me something that had no impact on anything at all. Then she just turned around and left. I looked back at Matthew and said, “What do I do?”

“Nothing,” was his reply. Of course I couldn’t leave that alone, so I grabbed my bathrobe and took off the ears, collar, and leash. I walked over to Ellie’s room and knocked on the door, opening it as I did so.

“Yeah?” she said.

“Uh, do you have any questions about what you saw?” (I mean…what else am I going to say???)


“Ok then.” And I went back in my bedroom. Ugh. Seriously, lock the door. Always.

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