I woke up this morning and the dog needed a walk. I had a man’s business shirt lying around, so I threw it on over my undies, covering all my unmentionables and took her out. I was whistling a happy tune and walking her by the tennis courts, when a little girl in a sundress asked her mother, “Mommy, why is that girl wearing a shirt like Daddy’s?”
The mom eyed my shirt, tsk-tsked and said, “Because, honey, sometimes grown ups make bad choices.”
Yeah. Thanks, Mom. I did the walk of shame down my own block after a torrid, breathless night of writing, watching the RUGRATS movie with my collie and cleaning the bathroom.
I’m so ashamed. My mother raised me better than this, eh?