Dear Ann Landers,
I used to do my housework in the nude, but a recent experience cured me. Our minister expressed the wish to see our new baby. The time set for his visit was 2 p.m. I was fresh out of coffee cream and phoned my neighbor to ask if she'd bring over half a bottle. I grabbed a face towel to wrap around my middle so I could reach out for the coffee cream. I opened the door quickly and shouted, Boy, am I glad to see you, Honey! To my everlasting shame, it was the minister. He was so startled, his glasses almost fell off. He mumbled, I'll be back next week when I can bring my wife. I slammed the door shut and just sat there and shook for twenty minutes. To this day, I'm unable to look him in the face. (P.S. You can be sure I'm no longer a nudist.)-Still Blushing Dear Blushing: The next letter from Kansas City may be a comfort.

Dear Ann,
I wonder if Lady Godiva saw the news item in the paper about an Ohio housewife. She was doing her laun-dry in the basement and impulsively decided to take off the soiled housedress she was wearing and throw it into the machine. Her hair had just been set in pincurls and the pipes overhead were leaking. She spotted her son's football helmet and put it on her head. There she was, stark naked (except for the football helmet) when she heard a cough. The woman turned around and found herself staring into the face of the meter-reader from the gas and electric company. As he headed for the door, his only comment was, "I hope your team wins, lady."