It started out innocently enough.
The grandparents were in town for the week of Thanksgiving. We knew it was going to be a strange, intense week, and we prepared accordingly. There would be no talk of boyfriends, ex-husbands, estranged children or educational scandals. Proper manners, civilized language, and conservative dress. All the staples of a trauma-free Turkey day, all of which lasted approximately twelve hours.
It happened to me first. I had gotten up early, dressed, and was waiting patiently for the coffee to brew so I could crawl into work with my eyes at least partially open. I had planned ahead and done my hair and makeup before the shower could be overrun by the elderly, but no amount of preparation could have protected me from what happened next when dear, dear Grandpa came shuffling down to the kitchen in nothing but his skivvies.
It was horrible. I will spare you the specifics. I warned my mother when she reached the ground floor that Grandpa was in the kitchen. She didn’t understand what I meant until she saw what I meant. He was in the kitchen, all right. All of him.
I don’t want to make too much fun because it really is awful, but I do feel compelled to address the simple point that this will not do. It is never, never, not ever ok to go parading around someone else’s residence in your underpants. Especially family. Especially grown family. And especially when it’s not an accident. And if such a scenario does for some unimaginable reason befall you and you find yourself caught indisposed lurking over last nights left-overs, it is certainly not ok to linger! (Which of course is what Grandpa did, leaning on counters, enjoying a leisurely cup of café, much to our dismay).
I think we can all imagine what the (only!) exception to the mandatory-pants-at-breakfast rule must be, and in such situations it is certainly up to one’s discretion just how unclothed they choose to remain. I recommend a silk robe. Yet it is difficult to imagine that there could be any confusion when it comes to when it is and is not acceptable to throw propriety (and pants!) to the winds.
I suppose it could be argued that such a level of comfort and familiarity is refreshing, but I assure you: droopy drawers in the morning are not.
So people please, let’s all do each other a favor and air on the side of caution, and clothing, when it comes to the comfort of those around us. While some may feel at ease hanging out while it all hangs out, some of us prefer a more buttoned down approach. Or zipped. Or Velcroed for all I care. Just please, please, put on your pants.
