Or should I say *accidentally tries to* and *luckily fails.*
See, 6 days a week we are just like the rest of you classy Richardson folk, but on the seventh day we evidently rest back into our trailer park roots....
I had just gotten up from a nap, which for me looks something like horrific pink bed head, mascara smudged eyes and unbuttoned jeans (basic white trash style, right?). And as I walked into the living room I hear my son say "Hey mom, who is that?" as he points out our front window. I lean over to see Laura Maczka heading up our walkway and as I announce this fact I suddenly notice my husband is sitting IN OUR LIVING ROOM reading the newspaper in his underwear! (cherry on the WT cake)
His initial instinct is to fan out the paper in an attempt to cover his bareness, but he quickly realizes this looks even more questionable, so he jumps up an partially streaks across our living room to safe cover....or to get covered, whatever.
Anyway, I was still in a nap daze and could not control my laughter. Poor Mrs.Maczka. She said she saw nothing, but I'm pretty sure it would take an experience counselor to get the real story out of her.
So if you hear any wild tales about my husbands tail, just know that's only true on Sundays (for the most part).
*Sorry, that's the most menacing picture I could find of naked Abe. Surprisingly, I have none of him in his chonies. You'll just have to use your imagination.