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I love the image of my wife opening the door while she’s “not decent”.

“Hey, get the door!” she calls as the doorbell finishes ringing, “I’m not decent!” I look up to see my wife fleeing the living room wearing naught but a towel, and barely that. Smirking to myself, I’m tempted to say, “Nah, you’re already up. You get it.”

Perhaps it’s the sadistic side of me that gets a kick out of seeing her blush with embarrassment. Perhaps it’s the cheap thrill I get when people get a peek at how sexy my wife is. Perhaps it’s the vast amusement I’d get at the pizza kid’s expression at seeing a woman answer the door in a towel. Or perhaps it’s just the silent hope to see the towel fall as she reaches out to sign the credit card receipt.

 

If I were a gambling man, I’d bet on a combination of all of the above.

Whatever it is, I love the image of my wife opening the door while she’s “not decent”.

Maybe it’s not a towel. It could be a robe after a shower, or a sports bra with yoga pants after a workout (yes, sweat included), or even something highly relaxed like a tank top and underwear on laundry day. I wouldn’t suggest a skimpy chemise or a sexy school girl costume or stark naked and hiding behind the door (though I won’t deny that I’d be highly entertained by any of those options), but something casual and incidental… yeah, that’d be a lot of fun.

And it doesn’t have to be the pizza kid, either. It could be the UPS guy. It could be close friends coming over (admittedly, they’d have to be very close friends). Or best of all, it could be… Mormons! I know; I’m a terrible person.

Admittedly, most of these possibilities are hardly possibilities at all, given her sensibilities. But I can still be amused by the thought.

I know, I know. I’m a weird, pervy little man. But at least I’m not answering the door naked myself. Then everyone loses.

But I can’t get over the image of her in her underwear, shaking hands with Mormons and inviting them to join us for tea and cake.

Originally posted 2016-08-26 08:00:02.