Why I Don't Sleep Naked

Yesterday I found myself reading yet another hilarious post from Kris over at Pretty All True in which she disclosed her penchant for sleeping in the buff.  She seems to wonder at those of us who don't.  I would be one of 'us' that don't.  I never have slept fully un-clad and therefore am not comfortable doing so.  I wear the bare minimum in this heat and when it's cold, especially at Christmas, I have full-on flannel jammies.

Adding to not being able to actually fall asleep in the buff; we are never completely alone in our room.  We go to bed alone but it's not often we wake up alone.  Rhett's never ending desire to locate my penis would only be further encouraged by my nudity rather than deterred.  The little boys often try to catch glimpses when they can out of curiosity while the older children would likely run screaming in sheer terror were I to present myself to them in all my naked glory.

Last night though I had yet another reason for keeping myself semi-clothed for sleeping.  I woke shortly after 3 a.m.  I had been sleeping somewhat restlessly anyway and was annoyed to be waking yet again.  Then as my senses began to fully awaken, a stench filled my nose and it became clear this was the reason for my waking.  Dog shit.  Or more specifically: puppy poop.  I laid there and contemplated my course of action.  Should I just try to fall back asleep in this stench and feel like the dirtiest human being alive?  Get up and clean it and end up fully awake? 

I got up. 

Checked the damage, which was not minimal.  Woke my husband so as not to scare the proverbial shit out of him when I turned on our little carpet cleaner.  Then I set to work.

So there I was, sometime after 3 a.m., hunched over the carpet cleaning poop out of it.  And the first thing that came to mind was: "I'm glad I'm not naked; this would be ugly naked".  After that? "I am so going to blog about this".  And then I set about writing this in my head.  And as I washed my hands and got ready to go back to bed I thought, "Well, if that doesn't mean I'm a true blogger, I don't know what does".  Not that I necessarily questioned my validity as a blogger before now but it struck me as slightly odd that while cleaning up puppy poop in the middle of the night, my first thoughts were of writing about it and relating it to other blogs I read, and not about better training my dog.

In Chuy's defense, he was very sick over the weekend and is still not fully recovered and our bedroom door was shut and when you gotta' go, you gotta' go.  That being said, he slept in the living room after that.

I returned to bed, in my tank top and panties, more than grateful for both.