The Most Natural of States

Growing up in Iowa, I'm not sure I learned to appreciate the most basic forms of nature. In my own defense, I learned to appreciate the sweetness of corn and how recently it was picked. I learned how the right cut of meat can nearly melt in your mouth. I learned to appreciate the phonomenon of raising the world's largest sow on display at the Iowa State Fair. I learned to dress warmly in winter and somewhat lightly in summer. One thing I didn't learn was an appreciation for the most natural states of the human form: nudity.

It may be the warmth of California air or the lack of apparel worn by southern California residents. Either way, my children seem enchanted with their own bare hides. Of late, it's all I can do to keep them dressed in our own house and in the presence of the general public. Valerie doesn't help as she acts as the instigator, encouraging Dagny's compulsions to run around in the buff.

I should have been warned when as a newborn, Dagny somehow managed to rid herself of socks, despite only being able to eat, sleep, cry & defecate. As she learned to walk, the warmth of the season removed any need for socks or shoes. Even during the last few months of colder winter weather, the child prefers to sleep without socks.

Now, the daily burden of getting dressed or changing a dirty diaper has turned into a game. Does Dagny understand that her mommy and daddy are stronger and will likely overpower her each day? I guess it's the days we are running late, or times we feel too fatigued to play the game that fuels her obstinance and emboldens her tiny devilish grin.

It's come to the point, with either child that if the smallest of water falls onto a pant leg or pasta noodle tumbles down the front of a shirt, there is an immediate need to be au naturel. Either child immediately strips naked, Valerie helping Dagny with the removal of each article of clothing. It doesn't matter who has the stain, both disrobe, one in support of the other. Being in a room nearby, I understand the flow of events by the abrupt shrieks of joy and laughter as they run from room to room in complete nakedness.

A few weeks ago, when this fascination began, I recall remarking to Ken, "It's nice to see that our girls are so confident about their little bodies, because things will change when puberty hits. I don't know a single woman in American culture who is pleased with the entirety of their physical shape."

Hopefully, this recent aversion to clothing is "just a phase" my children are experiencing. I fear letting loose two female versions of George Costanza (alias Buck Naked) into society at large 16 years from now.