Breastfeeding triplets is fairly tiring, and since it's pretty much 24/7, putting a shirt on isn't a huge priority (one or two finish, and then the next one's ready). We'd just moved, and the (rather young) cable guy showed up to hook us up- I let him in, showed him what we needed doing, and couldn't figure out why he was not only giving me the eye like I was a crazy person, but was doing his best to back away slowly every time we went through a doorway.

So he gets it done, about an hour later my husband comes home, and I tell him about the slightly creepy cable guy. It was only when my husband pointed that out that I was dressed solely in bikini bottoms that I understood what the problem was.