The Naked Days

When I was little, I really liked being naked.  

Not the normal naked-to-clothing ratio that a child has which is already pretty high, but the causing-actual-problems-for-my-mom kind of naked.

I imagine it was cute and endearing at first.

But eventually, things escalated.

Obviously at home it was not a big deal, just probably annoying to spend time putting clothes on me only to immediately find them on the floor with no Morgan in them.

I soon began to embarrass her when we would go into public.

I also began to embarrass other people.

It went on this way for a while, always frustrating my parents (mostly, my mom).  For the most part she just rolled her eyes and put my clothes back on, chalking it up to my being a child.

...Until the day that she decided to bring me to her annual company party.

This was incredibly foolish and she should have known better.

Everyone gathered at the beach that day to celebrate their work as a company.  I, of course, remember zero of this, but have been told the story many times.

Things started out fine.  

My mom introduced me to everyone and everyone told her I was sooo cute and blah blah blah other stuff that people say about babies.

She had managed to keep my clothes on through the majority of the party, so she thought it would be OK to have a quick conversation with her coworker.

She was wrong.

Because a few minutes later, I was naked and peeing in the sand in front of her entire company.