I might have a problem.
Actually, I'm pretty sure I have a problem.
Or maybe, it's my brother that has the problem.
I don't really know.
One of does, that's for sure.
You should know.....
I love my brother.
He is really, a fantastic guy.
He is smart......
and, actually, quite handsome!
I love spending time with him.
I like his company.
This is actually something my entire family is very good at.
We all genuinely like each other, and enjoy being in each other's company.
We were all together for Christmas on the 17th at my brother's newly built house.
We had a FANTASTIC time!
This is us!
We like each other!
Also, aren't we particularly good looking?
(Please note, none of us girls knew there was going to be a family photo, so not one of us had done our hair, or put a stitch of make-up on. In fact, I don't think I had even brushed my teeth at this point.......Yikes! Still.......we are HOT!)
Anyway, in spite of the fantastic time we had together,
this is where the problem occurred.
You see, there were 16 of us all staying overnight at my brother's house.
So, you know, that means 16 bodies that needed to be cleaned.
With two showers.
So, my sister-in-law graciously volunteers their en-suite for my use.
This is awesome!
I get to use their gorgeous, large, rain-fall shower!
My brother; my sister-in-law's husband, and my husband; my sister-in-law's brother-in-law, had gone into town to pick up a few needed items.
So, neither of them heard my sister-in-law offer up their en-suite.
Just before I make my way to their bedroom to get myself showered, they arrived back home.
I didn't end up seeing my brother, but I did see my husband, so I hollered down the stairs at him to tell my brother that I was getting in his shower.
Do not trust a man to relay an important message.
They mean well, but let's be honest.
They lose things in translation.
I gather all of my "shower paraphernalia" find a towel in the linen closet, and proceed to their bedroom.
I shut the bedroom door, and make my way through their walk-in closet, (be still my beating heart!!!) closing that door, whilst discovering it had no lock on it, and on into the en-suite.
See, the en-suite is sort of attached to the walk-in closet, and share the same door.
Being that the closet door didn't have a lock on it, I should have gone out to the bedroom door and locked it...... you know, just in case?
But, I didn't.
I didn't because, I'm stupid.
Anyhow, I'm in the bathroom, getting ready to get in the shower.
I remove my jammies, (I apologize profusely for the image now implanted in your brain, but honestly, I was getting in the shower, so it needed to happen, folks.)
and this memory, from back when I was 17, flooded my brain......
I am 17.
It is late morning and,
I believe I am the only one in the house.
I need to have a shower.
So, I go the bathroom just down the hall from my bedroom.
I towel dry my body.
Because I believe I am the only one in the house,
I hang my towel on the back of the bathroom door,
leave the bathroom, to walk past my brother's bedroom,
whose door is wide open,
and proceed into my own bedroom......
There is only one problem.
I am not the only one in the house.
After entering my bedroom,
I hear my brother yell at me.......
"MELINDA!!!!!! DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM??????"
I die inside.
Like, my heart actually stopped beating.
For a few split seconds,
I was completely dead.
my body went hot in my panic.
my entire body must have been as red as a beat.....
a fire truck,
or, a freaking red, hot coal.
Let me tell you, folks,
my body burned with embarrassment!
But, there was no way in hell,
(That's actually how hot I was!!!)
I was going to let my brother know that.
I replied as casually as I could.
"Do you have a problem????"
O, dear Lord!
Let me die right now!
I should dig a grave, and crawl in it!
I will never live this down!
The entire school will hear about this by tomorrow!
let. me. die!
I never died.
(Only from embarrassment.)
There I am, standing in my brother's personal bathroom, (well, his, and his wife's...)
with this painful memory burning through my brain.......
"Maybe I should go lock the bedroom door........"
"I mean, what if he were to come in and see me standing here,
stark naked, again?????"
"No. Be serious, Melinda. How likely is that to happen again?"
"Besides, hubby told him you were using his en-suite."
that right there, is what was going through my head when the un-freaking-thinkable happened.
My brother walked into the bathroom.
What in the actual hell?!?!?!?
How can this be happening?!?!?!?
What is wrong with us??????
I SCREAMED, people!
"I'M IN HERE!!!!!!!"
My sister-in-law has a special drawer in her vanity where she keeps her hair-dryer and flat-iron, etc.
That, by the EXTREME GRACE OF GOD, had been pulled out.
I ducked behind it with my arms covering my, um.......upper half.
The whole drawer is basically see through, so, there is really, no way it covered ANYTHING!!!
But, still, it was something,
so there I hid, er, squatted, trying to hide myself.
I was in such a state of panic, you guys, that I squeezed shut my own eyes.
I just didn't want to see him, um....... see me.
But, I did see him.
My eyes did see him, see me.
His face paled.
His eyes glazed over.
I think he may have stopped breathing.
In fact, it's quite probable that he too,
in that moment,
may have actually died for a split second.
That, poor, unfortunate soul.
Before I even had time to shut my own eyes after screaming at him and ducking behind the see-through hair-dryer drawer, all whilst trying to cover my um........upper half with my arms,
I saw sheer panic register on his face.
I saw dis-belief.
I saw horror.
I saw all of this, in the Nano-second it took for him to turn around and walk out of the closet.
You guys, this was the longest Nano-second in my entire life.
Probably in his life, too.
It lasted an eternity.
Being that my eyes were shut, I only heard him shut the closet door.
Actually, he may have slammed it.
I'm guessing once he started breathing again,
I heard him bellow,
"LOCK THE FRIGGIN' DOOR!!!!!!!!"
And then I heard the bedroom door slam.
I figured it was safe to open my eyes now.
So, I did.
But, I still stayed crouched behind the see-through hair-dryer drawer with my arms covering my, um....upper half.
You know, just to be sure.
And then, the convulsions started.
I began laughing.
It was either that, or dig myself a grave and crawl in.
So, I chose hysterical laughter.
By now, I could hear everyone else downstairs laughing, anyway.
They had obviously deduced what had happened from the screams and slamming doors and yelling.
I wrapped my naked self in my brother's bathrobe, (sorry, brother)
and made my way out of the bathroom,
through the walk-in closet,
and into the bedroom.
When I turned the knob of the bedroom door,
I discovered he had locked it.
I guess he didn't want to accidentally walk in on me a second time.
I unlocked the door I should have locked in the first place,
and followed the laughter downstairs.
I'm pretty sure everyone but the brother, was laughing.
He was still pale.
And slightly, sickly looking.
My mother was howling.
Of course, so was I.
Like I said, it was either that, or the early grave.
In between my hysteria, I berated my husband for not telling my brother that I was using his shower.
"I never heard you say that." he said.
Good, stinking grief!!!
So, now, after 27 years,
the naked sister image has been re-established in my brother's brain.
He will probably never be able to look at me again.
I would say, he definitely has a problem.
Yes, in all probability, the problem is his,
there was that time at the swimming pool when we were playing water polo in gym that I came up out of the water whilst the top half of my bathing suit remained behind in the water.
Thank the good Lord it wasn't my brother that I was standing in front of......
It was his best friend.
And, oh yeah.
There was this time, too.........
I'm the one who has a problem.
I'm the problem.
I. Am. The. Problem.
I am, after all,
The Naked Sister.