I had a Wardrobe Malfunction this morning, but of the worst possible kind – one that had me stuck IN my clothing, and completely covered up. The zipper tab on my favourite hoodie is missing, and while I was able to do the zipper all the way up to protect my taters on the scooter ride in, I wasn’t able to undo it when I had arrived. The horror! A shred of decency, on my person! Terrible. It took 20 minutes and a pair of scissors, but I was finally able to free my chest from the shackles of oppression and dignity. I will never do this hoodie up again.

I often joke about being naked, but when I’m in the safety of my own home, I’m not kidding– the clothes come off within 5 minutes of my arrival, no matter what time of year it is. I just don’t like wearing clothes at home. I prefer being pantless, regardless of how fabulous those pants might be.

My constant nudity leads to a lot of awkward situations: scrambling for clothing when someone knocks at the door, having to hide when the pizza is delivered, friends warning me before dropping by. Problematic, too, are the windows – we have large windows that look out over our street, and the blinds are always open. Ed warns me when I stop to stretch in front of them, oblivious to the threat of prying eyes – but do I cover up or run away in shame? Of course not. I’m naked and comfortable, and why are they looking in our windows anyway? Jerks.

That’s why I’m secretly afraid that something like this is going to happen:

Man Charged After Making Coffee Naked

SPRINGFIELD, Va. – A Springfield, Virginia man is facing an indecent exposure charge after a passerby spotted the man naked in his kitchen and reported it to police.

This story is fantastically stupid, and I am fairly certain it wouldn’t happen in Canada (or any country except the US – seriously, why are you guys so uptight) – but that doesn’t mean I am not waiting for that knock at the door from the police, telling me someone has complained about my inappropriate nudity and that I’ve corrupted the minds and appetites of many. They’ll haul me off to jail, not giving me time to put on clothing. It’ll make the front page news – my wobbly naked bits flailing about for all the world to see – and before I know it, my burgeoning political empire will crumble into ruins; all because I like a gentle breeze on my naked cooter.

Life is hard.