I like 'em in a nightie. One of those white gossamer numbers, frilly, not too long or too short. Sometimes they wear men's pajamas or a long t-shirt, and it's just not the same. It's not like I'm asking for a candelabra or anything; I've changed with the times. But the long nightie that flutters when I kick up an unnerving cold draft, that becomes just a little transparent when the full moon is behind it… there's just nothing like it.
Mind you, if they're in the altogether when I scare 'em right out of their beds, I won't complain.
Gotta love a randy ghost.
ReplyDeleteIf you're the girl in the nightie, I'd say that's debatable! ;-)
DeleteThat ghost would love me ;) I hate nighties
ReplyDeleteI'll let him know. :-)
DeleteYou'd complain if it was me, Randy. I'll be sure to moon you!
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading :-)
DeleteDavid, nice piece. I can't say I need to see the nightie. Nothing is sometimes better than something. Maybe it's because I live in Florida.
ReplyDeleteWell, you Floridians have those bugs that fly around fused together at the backside, so clearly you've got issues. ;-)
Deleteoh, David . . . :) yes . . . leaving things to imagination is good. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks! :-)
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