Trick or Treat - That's Me.

One of the great things about being home in Ireland was a chance to visit the lingerie and nightwear department of Marks & Spencer's.  The Mad Mammy is now fully stocked up on bras and bloomers for another while.  Whilst I was there, I also availed of some new nighties and even treated myself to a pretty, slinky, satin number.  It basically looks something like this:

However, my nightdress has a pattern on it.  Please note the use of the word "nightdress". 

Now since I returned to Australia the weather has warmed up and I enjoy nothing more on a Saturday morning than flitting around the house in my nightdress, which helps me to achieve two things:

1.  It's so light, it keeps me cool.
2.  It's so gorgeous and slinky, it makes me feel like a glammy mammy.

To be honest, I like feeling cool and glammy so much that I have to confess to sometimes wearing the much loved nightdress well beyond breakfast time.  And it just so happened yesterday was one of those days......

So I'm sitting at my desk, happily checking something on my computer when I catch a flash of something outside the window.  It looks like someone is coming to the front door.  Now the kids are in front of the T.V. and Big Daddy is out on the back deck.  None of them hear the knock on the door.  But I do.....  However, I'm in my nightdress.  My slinky, satin nightdress that looks perfect for a dirty weekend away - not answering the door to strangers, possibly even the neighbours!

Another knock comes on the door, louder this time.  "Crap," I think to myself, "this person really wants something" and the crazy thought goes through my head that maybe it's a court summons for something and do I really want to receive a summons dressed like a post-Christian Grey, Ana Steele?

 

The answer is no!  So I dash into the downstairs bathroom and hope the mysterious caller will go away.  Then he knocks again - much louder this time.  Now for those of you who don't live in sub-tropical Queensland, one of the ways we deal with the heat here is to have as many windows and doors open as possible.  Of course this poses a security risk, so the doors in particular have what is like a second door - it's basically a screen with a metal frame incorporated into it that looks like this:

You may notice that you can see right through it!  So, there I was in the bathroom,  with the option of going back into my office where my unwanted caller could look through the window and see me and wonder why the hell I wasn't answering the door or I could make a dash for the back deck also giving the unwanted caller the chance to see me and wonder what sort of weirdo was living here.   I stayed put, hoping he would either get fed up and go away or one of my audibly challenged family members would finally hear his knocks.



Things Were Starting To Look Like This

No such luck.  He knocked again and this time there was a certain insistence to it.  Fiddlesticks.  What to do?  I looked down at my nightdress and this is where I decided that it didn't look all that different from an actual dress. I reasoned with myself that the pattern gave it a "dressy" kinda look, as in daydressy.  And the fact that my frilly black bra was visible from underneath the "dress" wasn't an issue at all.  Spaghetti straps and sundresses mean you see bras all the time in Queensland. "So," I chided myself, "stop acting like a ninny and just answer the bloody door."

To be fair to the man, he didn't bat an eyelid at first but I think that's because it may have taken him a few seconds to fully appreciate the sight before him.  I should probably mention at this stage that I'm somewhat on the curvy side, you could even go so far as to say extra-voluptuous. He explained he was here about trimming the bushes (don't even go there!) in the back garden.  So, I invited him in and it was at this point he hesitated......  His eyes shot to the floor and it occurred to me he might be wondering if he had a sex maniac on his hands who loved nothing more than when unsuspecting workmen turn up at the door. 
"Er, you can talk to my husband about it," I stuttered.

He let out a sigh of relief and came in.  It was only after he left I realized he had studiously avoided eye contact with me the whole time he was here.  After his departure, Big Daddy suggested I might want to slip into something a little less comfortable.  I looked at him.  "This does look like a dress right?" I hopefully enquired.  The snort was all the answer I needed.

Sorry Mr. Bushman - I'm not sure if the sight of me in my "dress" was your idea of a nasty trick or a bit of a treat.  I hope I'm not running around in my bikini when you call again.