[Edited on Wednesday]
In honor of Mardi Gras and Maundy Tuesday (which I am not celebrating, because some people have to work on frivolous holidays such as these), I have decided to purge myself of all flashing stories.
Flashing Story #1: This is one of my earliest memories. I was probably 3 or 4 years old and I was very proud of my satin panties with ruffles and a pink ballerina on the back. I was so proud, that I bent over forward and lifted up the back of my dress to show two little boys at church. When I sat down later next to my mother in the pew, I turned to her with guilt and told her what I’d done. She said I shouldn’t show my panties to little boys.
Flashing Story #2: At summer camp when I was 8, we used to pile into the showers, five girls at a time for a fast and furious nightly shower. It got old, but we had to do it because the counselors were afraid of the ticks and it had to be fast because there were so many of us and we had to be in our sleeping bags by 9 p.m. Anyway, I took too long one night, as I tend to do, and the lights were going off, so I just streaked from bathroom to bed, no towel or jammies needed.
Flashing Story #3: Thanks, Bonnie, for reminding me. Again, I was about 8 or 9, and I used to stay out at my friend Crystal’s house on the Flying D Ranch. For you non-locals, that’s Ted Turner’s ranch, as her stepdad was the manager there. Anyhoo, Crystal and I, and her brother Kendall and my brother David, all used to pile into their little kiddie pool in the front yard and sit there and shiver (because it’s cold in the mountains!) even though her mom filled the pool with warm water from a hose connected to the washing machine. The flashing part comes in when we used to “hose off” after rolling around in the grass and then dash upstairs to Crystal’s room. The boys weren’t supposed to look, but we knew they did, and when they got upstairs from being hosed off, we’d always open her bedroom door and yell, “Don’t look, boys, because we’re naaaaakkkeeeeeeddddd!!!” To this day, her dad won’t let me forget it. And neither will Bonnie.
Flashing Story #4: For all my modesty in high school, I sure flashed a lot in college. Just ask my roommates. It was sort of a joke, that I couldn’t walk by Bethany or Ashley as they dutifully studied without a quick flash of flesh. But the best was when my naked-phobic roommates Jeanine and Jessica dared me that I wouldn’t sleep in the buff. Just to prove them wrong, I shed my clothes, throwing them at their faces one piece at a time. They were appalled. I felt great.
Of course, I’ve long grown out of flashing now. Just ask my neighbors.