Thanks for...Getting Undressed?

This year at Thanksgiving Dinner we went around the table saying what we were thankful for. Now, in a family with 8 aunts/uncles, 16 grandchildren, and 48 great grandchildren, this tradition can take several hours. If I remember right, I said I was thankful for something generic and cliche; like most people do anyway.

Getting home later that night though, I realized I was thankful for the little things in life. The things people really don't think about.

For instance; I love dressing up. I can't say why, but I do. Picking out just the right bottoms  to wear with that top, or wearing an expensive piece of jewelry for the first time, just gets me excited. Especially if its the first time I'm showing my outfit to anybody else.

But when I got home this year I got to thinking. I may like to dress up, but I love getting undressed more.

Not that way.

Perverts.

The feeling I get when I've just come home late from a really fun party, or even a boring one, and I've just changed into my comfy clothes. That state of dress when your hair isn't perfect, but it's still rather pretty; when the ringlets you spent all day curling are falling out and are just a little frizzy. When your makeup is still on, but is fading quickly and you're not in a rush to reapply it before someone notices. When you can finally take off the heels you've been wearing since noon and slip on a pair of fuzzy socks and curls up in front of the fire.    

So, upon coming home from our annual Thanksgiving Dinner, I decided I'm thankful for that feeling; The feeling of getting undressed...but not in that way.

I said: Not in that way.