I kind of had a combination of techniques. I'd suddenly become talkative about the most inane things. "Wonder how many tiles there are up on the ceiling anyway?" "Who knew 'Pump up the Jam' could be turned into musak?" You get the idea.
Or I'd tune everything out completely.
After the birth of my third child, I was much better at coping. A doctor entered the room and I was already doing the necessary preparations for whatever he was there for. Imagine my embarrassment (and hers) when I once began to disrobe as a scrub-clad lady came into my hospital room. She took one look at me, her eyes almost fell out of her head, and she hurriedly emptied the trash then left. Um, yeah, oops.
So, my point: I'd lost some of my modesty.
It's been four years since I've had to regularly disrobe in front of perfect strangers. And I must have gotten some of my modesty back. I don't even allow my daughter to be present when I get dressed in the
My relatively (ha! I crack myself up) new-found modesty may have something to do with the following situation.
My daughter was needing some mommy time. We had a big afternoon planned: lunch, a trip to the mall, and then to the hair salon. Cherie loves getting her haircut, lip gloss and pancakes topped off with chocolate shakes from Denny's. She was quite insistent about doing everything together that day. As we were getting dressed for our date, I realized she was paying particular attention as I was placing an undergarment upon the upper half of my body. She threw her hands over her eyes and declared:
"Oh, my word. Is THAT what they look like? I hope I don't have those when I grow up!"
Funny, I've never had any complaints like that before . . .
(For more laughs, click on over to JennyOnTheSpot.)