The Naked Man


There I was, walking down the street with a double stroller, more little people tagging along at my side.  I had taken my two girls and their two friends on cheerful, sunny outing to the dollar store (it’s the simple things in life).  As we trekked home with our loot — a bubble wand and a bottle of bubbles — I noticed a bicyclist coming towards us, so I hustled the children off to the side to make room for him.  The man happened to be shirtless.

Now, we’ve really tried to instill good habits of modesty in our children, and I have to admit that I’m rather glad that my daughter recognizes the shameful lack of clothing littering every checkout lane in our nation (“mommy, that lady is naked”).  I should have seen it coming, but I must admit that I was caught off-guard when my daughter yelled out, in all her 3-year-old exuberant innocence, “Mommy, he’s NAKED!  THAT MAN IS NAKED!!!

I’m not sure my face could have been redder as I ducked my head and tried unsuccessfully to stifle my laughter.  Part of me hopes the guy didn’t hear her.  But part of me hopes that he did, and that he puts a shirt on next time he goes for a bike ride.


Maybe we’ll wait a while before trying the beach…


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