I have long been vocal about my hatred and disdain for the burqa. You might say I'm an advocate for the abolishment of such an oppressor of human rights. In fact, in my younger years, I used to want to tear them off the head's of women screaming, "You're free! You're free!" Thankfully--for all involved, really--I refrained from such a public display of insanity.
So even I found it strange today when I said to my husband, "You know, there might be something to be said for the burqa."
He only paused for a moment before saying, "Why? You don't want to do your hair?"
"Or my make-up," I finished.
If it was entirely voluntary and not pressed upon me by an otherwise oppressive and stifling religious rule, a burqa or two in the closet might not be such a bad thing.
You know, for lazy days.