Mommy, why…?

“Mommy, why are the gentlemen naked?”

I thought it would be years before such a question came up. And, if I had thought about it, I would expect it to be in a situation like when men wear too small bathing suits at King’s Dominion (and really, would expect her to ask it about “ladies”, strong on the quotation marks) or… actually, I can’t even think of anything else. It’s just that far off the radar.

Which is why I was fully unprepared for it as we were leaving the house to go to the grocery store. We weren’t even out of the door yet! And she asked it in typical three-year-old fashion, loudly and repetitively.

“Why, Mommy? Where are there clothes? Why can’t they wear any clothes? Why are the gentlemen naked?”

Before you worry about streakers run rampant in the neighborhood, let me explain. Our next door neighbors are getting their house resided. The construction crew all decided to work shirtless. Shirtless isn’t a word Kaitlyn uses. Lack of clothes = naked. No questions. She doesn’t go barefoot; she has naked feet. Sleeveless shirts mean naked arms. She’s very single minded about it.

And her mind wasn’t going to be changed by my whispered “shhh! They’re not naked! They’re just not wearing shirts!”

“Yes they are naked!,” she exclaimed in her “Auntie voice”, “And why aren’t they wearing shirts? Ohhh, do they need shirts? Goodbye, gentlemen! Goodbye!”

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