And this is why we don't need to tip the paperboy....this time.

And is also the reason that little, old ladies wear robes tightly belted up, even on the hottest mornings, to collect the newspaper.

Let me explain in detail, if you will, how it is that I have come to these startling realizations.

In the summer, I generally sleep in a thin, but long and loose, tee shirt and old gym shorts.....because I am ALL about bringing back sexy in this house (obviously).  And up until recently, have felt pretty comfortable about trekking this look (along with my crazy bedhead, glasses and that dazed look of one who is in SERIOUS need of caffeine) down the long, long driveway to fetch our newspaper in the mornings.

Mainly, I have felt okay with this ensemble because a) it's usually early, early, early and who is going to see me  b) it's a tee shirt and a pair of shorts and c) since I'm the only one who actually reads the newspaper in this house it only makes sense that I should be the one to get it.

At any rate, Sunday morning dawns bright and early (as do most mornings, it seems) and I find myself shambling down the long, long driveway in search of the paper as my morning "helper" is merrily brewing itself away back at the house only to discover that the paper is not there.

This befuddles and irritates me.  I have long ago discovered that should my morning routine be varied in any way usually winds up with me being irritated.  I walk back up the long, long driveway to get my coffee and find something else to pass the time so early in the morning.

I am not happy.

I end up cruising around on the internet and making bread.  I mean really, what else was there to do at this ungodly hour?

Around 7:00 am, I end up taking, what I assume will be, another fruitless walk up the long, long driveway (because in reality - if the paper isn't here by 6:00 am then it usually isn't coming at all) only to spy the paper sitting at the very end of the drive - almost in the road really.  And I am happy.  This means I can re-direct my morning routine and get everything back on schedule.  Now, I'm back on track and almost glad I woke up extra early.  Almost.

From the corner of my eye, I see a car slowly rolling up to the end of the drive.  I briefly wonder what that is all about because on this road, no one EVER drives that slowly.  As I get nearer to the paper, I see the car stop at the end of the drive.

The passenger door opens and I realize that it's early, no one is around and I'm in my pajamas.  I wonder if I should be worried.

A young man jumps out (now, I'm definitely getting a little nervous) but yet, I'm still walking forward.  He bends over to pick up the paper and reaches it out to me.  And he says, "We missed the driveway.  We were coming back to fix that."  I notice the woman driver behind him (I feel a little better now).  I take the paper, thank him and turn back toward the house.

Later, after I recount the incident to my husband (why yes, we ARE reduced to discussing trips to get the paper and the mail now, thankyouverymuch), he starts to laugh.

When I ask why he's laughing he informs me that my tee shirt, the one I have felt SO confident about going out in every morning, shows everything - and, according to him, he means everything in great detail.

I was beyond mortified.  Apparently, I had basically just flashed the paperboy, excuse me, paperMAN. Great.

Guess what one of Hubby's new responsibilities is?  Yup, you guessed it.  He will now be getting the paper for me every morning.  *sigh*  Another variation in my morning routine.