I’m bummed. I found out my grown daughter saw me naked, and I don’t own a Wraptastic. (Disclaimer: I know. I know. As far as trouble goes these DO NOT MAKE THE CUT. But humor me.)
“Hey,” my husband said. “Maren saw you naked.”
I felt various body parts clench and quiver. I sucked in my rapidly approaching senior citizen discount stomach. It ignored me.
“Yep,” he said. “The blinds were open, you were wandering around the bedroom—without clothes, and she walked by on her way to get a Coke in the office.”
“It was ten o’clock at night. Who drinks Coke at 10 pm?”
He shrugged and popped the top of a Coke.
I huffed and puffed.
“Stringy! That’s the word she said came to mind the last time she saw me naked.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be naked so much of the time,” he said.
That was rich coming from a guy whose fondest teenage memory involved motorcycles and riding nude through the Florida underbrush. Don’t worry, he likes to explain, he had tennis shoes on so that he could shift.
Back in the day, it was called “streaking.” Now it’s called a misdemeanor.
“Don’t be naked so much! I was taking a bath! Maybe I shouldn’t let so many people wander around peeking at me—morning, noon, and night—and that includes you.”
That started it—worst day ever.
And then, thanks to Madison Avenue and the miracle of televised commercialism, I realized that I don’t own a Wraptastic, and I’m not sure how I’ve managed to live without one all these years.
According to the Wraptastic commercial, a Wraptastic is a plastic contraption that can tame those pesky rolls of plastic wrap that cause the world such unending grief by sticking to all the wrong stuff, twisting into hideous knots, and in extreme cases getting tangled around your head suffocating you.
Don’t even mention, the crappy cardboard boxes that plastic wrap are sold in, what with their deadly strips of metallic, tearing teeth. Deadly! Tearing! Teeth!
I know it’s frightening because the actors look completely horrified when they cut parts of their hands off on those deadly, tearing, teeth while trying to wrap up a hoagie.
Enter the Wraptastic: life changing, happiness inducing, freedom providing, and quick. So quick. It’s a plastic contraption that can change your life, if only you owned one, and I don’t.
First there was the naked thing and then this Wraptastic debacle.
Worst day ever.
If only I had a Wraptastic, I could wrap my nakedness in Saran wrap, put on a white fur hat and boots and call myself a Q-tip.
Note: The Q-tip joke is a Phyllis Diller bit that always lifted my spirits when the going got tough. Thanks, Phyllis.)
Linda (Better Luck Tomorrow) Zern