Thursday, August 27, 2009

no pants party round 2

I was raised in a very relaxed household. I think that this was largely due to my parents being so young when they got married and started popping out kids. My mom was 21 when she had my older brother, 26 with me, and 31 with the little bro. There weren't any strict rules exactly, no set chores, and punishments were at a minimum. Our rooms were filled with toys and a cable television so it wasn't really a bad thing to have to go play there alone for an hour or so. My mom also let me dress myself at a young age. And boy did I dress myself. Big hats, lots of necklaces, bright prints and frilly dresses. However, sometimes I would make the executive decision that I was done wearing clothing and would just strip down naked. As you may remember, I've documented my hatred for underwear and pants here.

I started going to camp at the age of five. My mom had to sit me down and explain to me that I could not, under any circumstances, get naked at camp. The other kids won't think it's funny, she said. The counselors will tell you that you're bad, she said. You'll get sent home and have to spend the whole summer with me inside, she said. These are all very frightening threats to a five year old, as you can imagine.

I managed to go most of the summer without streaking through arts and crafts. One morning my mom asked me if I wanted to pick out my outfit while she made breakfast. Of course I said yes and while she was gone put on one of my favorite tie-dyed dresses. I piled on about twenty necklaces, a straw hat, ran into the kitchen and said "ta-daaaa, I am ready for camp, mommy!" She gave me a once-over and decided that while I looked a little crazy, that the outfit would do. I gave her a kiss, boarded the bus, and I was on my way.

A few hours later my mom got a call saying that she'd need to come down to the camp. Her first reaction was that oh God, maybe I'd been hurt. The counselor then went on to explain, "Jessie came to camp with no underwear on. You're going to have to drive over and bring her a pair."

So there you have it folks. Proof that I have always hated pants and underwear.

Look at me in my sweet, fashionable sweatshirt

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