Dining Out With The Boss

When I was little, we seldom dined away from home. We really didn’t go out that much at all. Trips to the grocery store or an occasional trip to the downtown section of our little town were about the extent of our outings. Our social circle consisted of a few neighbors. So, it was a big deal when my dad announced that my family was invited to a barbecue at the home of his boss. I was about four years old. I remember my parents running around trying to get us all ready for the big event. Preparing a 7 year old, 4 year old and twin babies for an evening out was a daunting task.

Sometime after we arrived at the barbecue, my mom picked me up. It really didn’t happen that often due to the two baby boys my parents were normally toting. As I recall, the wife of my dad’s boss was cooing and awing over my brothers. She took one of the boys from my mom to hold. Mom was just not used to not having a kid in her arms. She probably picked me up as some sort of reflex action.

Now, I must take a moment to explain that my mom was a very retiring, gentle lady. In my entire life with her, I don’t remember her ever doing anything to draw attention to her self or cause any type of scene. So, you can imagine her horror when she realized, after picking me up, that I was wearing no underwear. Nothing. I was bare bottomed. Somehow, in the confusion of dressing us for the dinner, no one realized that I had not put on my underpants. I don’t remember why I didn’t put any on. Maybe I couldn’t find them. I probably didn’t bother to ask for any. It doesn’t really matter. That fact was that I was naked beneath my little dress. Thank goodness I was potty trained!

Mom immediately got dad to the side and told him what was up. Apparently, neither one wanted to admit what had happened. We didn’t leave the party. Instead, mom handed me over to dad who carried me around for the remainder of the evening. They told everyone that I was shy, which was very difficult since I am anything but. People would ask to hold me and I would willing put out my arms only to have dad pull me back and explain that I was very shy.

I can honestly say that I’ve always worn underpants since that day. The horror on my parents’ faces must have imprinted, on my brain, the need to keep myself covered. No commando for me!