Naked First Impressions

We're going to Mark's parents house tomorrow to celebrate Spencer's 8th birthday. It's been several weeks since we've seen my mother-in-law... Actually, the last time we saw either of them was prior to me initiating any blog attempt what so ever. So as Mark and I sit at home talking about our plans, I remind him that I have not sent his mother or sister my blogger link... only his Aunt Sharon.


"Why not?"


Well, you know... Aunt Sharon has a pretty good sense of humor; and she swears a lot; and she gets worked up about things like me so I don't think she'd be offended as your mom might be if she reads me writing about your penis."


"Yeah, good point."


"Yeah. But it's not like anything I do anymore could be a shock to your mom, right?"


And then, the story comes out. Again, as it usually does every so often . I don't think we can make it through a six month period without something reminding us. And when it happens, for some reason, we feel the need to re-live the entire scene chapter by chapter. How humiliating.

We were probably into our 6th week of dating... and when Mark worked night shifts back then I would work a short day and drive 30 minutes to his house to wake him up mid afternoon...in bed. I will never forget the day we heard footsteps coming up the stairs.


"Would Tracey EVER bring the boys over to visit without calling?"

"Um, no. But let me check!"

Mark slips boxers on, as I lay in bed naked waiting for something...

Silence... Door... Voices....

"Hi Mom!"

OH.................MY................GOD................!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Did he just say "Hi MOM."??????????????????????

And there I sat. In his bed. Naked and panic stricken. Do I get dressed and go out? Do I wait here and pretend I am not even present? Do I jump out the fucking window, or try to make a run down the front stair case and get to my car? She had to see my car in the driveway. She knows SOMEONE is here. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, give me a sign. What do I do????

So being the professional adult that I am, I decided to quickly put my suit back on (minus my thongs...where the HELL were my fucking underwear???!!!), comb my fingers frantically through my hair and walk slowly out the bedroom door. I quickly wrapped my raincoat around me, and tip toed down the hall. I'm 36 years old for God's sake. This is silly and immature on my part, isn't it? We're adults. (All THREE of us, that is.) She has GOT to know that her son might actually still be interested in S-E-X, right???

I passed the boy's bedroom which was empty and quiet as it usually is each afternoon. I continued down the hall, and as I turned the corner, my face slammed directly into Mark's bare chest, as he was dressed only in his boxers. Directly behind him carrying a bin of kids toys was a beautiful short blonde woman who just looked at me with what I would now like to call a half smile, who while trying to keep her eyes in the direction she was headed I think quietly attempted to utter the word "Hi."

OK, this is HUGE. First impressions mean everything, right???


"Hi..."I responded, as I stretched out my hand so respectfully to introduce myself. "I'm Susan."
[I just slammed your son.]

"Well, I'm Donna. It's nice to meet you."
[Wow. Blonde AND big boobs?]

"It's nice to meet you too." Silence.....


Are you fucking kidding me? I can not believe this is happening to me. I'm really a good person. This does not look as bad as it is. Well, maybe it does look bad, and maybe it is a little bit of what it looks like, but we've been through a lot of the same shit, and married the same type of selfish assholes and we both ironically each have two beautiful children who know each other through day care and I am a pretty good cook and we've hit it off since day one of meeting each other and did I mention I'm a really good person????

(More silence as she sets down the bin of toys and kneels on the floor to begin assembly of a kids table and set of chairs she had been lugging up the stairs for the past I have no idea how many minutes or hours - the same past minutes and hours I was accosting her son in his bedroom thinking we were alone...)


"Well Donna, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom. It was very nice to meet you."


And there I sat. In the bathroom of Mark's upstairs house apartment. I think it had to be over 20 minutes before I heard her car pull out of the driveway, and Mark's loud laughter coming back up the stairs, calling out over and over again..."Sue, she's gone. You can come out now."

I have been drinking wine ever since.