Don't look, Ethel!!!!

I could never be a streaker, or a nudist, for that matter. It's not that anyone has ever asked me to be one, but if the invitation presented itself, I'm afraid I would have to politely decline.

Perhaps it's because I'm not completely comfortable in my own skin. I rarely walk around naked at home...even when I'm totally alone and have every right to do so. Walking past a mirror, or worse, standing in front of one getting ready, while I'm in the raw, makes me pick myself apart. A bump here, a flaw there...always something that could look better.

I like wearing clothes. They hide a myriad of things that nakedness flaunt. Nothing wrong with wrapping the package, so to speak. Not to mention, nudity leaves nothing to the imagination.

I suppose there could be an argument made that going to a nudist colony would help me feel better about my body...boost my self esteem and help me get more comfortable. Nah....besides, I would miss the shoes!!!

Keep my clothes on in public? Don't mind if I do...