Being the responsible mother I am, I diligently drag my three kids to their swim lessons every week… regardless of the ironic fact that I would like to drown myself in the process. That is until…
I realized the gossip that happens in the change room is good… actually, better than good. Like, highschool-locker room kinda good. So, after I’ve learned those who are having affairs and polishing off bottles of wine by 9am, and allowing their kids to watch more than 23.4 minutes of screentime a day, I also overhear the “cute” gossip.
Anonymous Mom: Jacob, when you’re finished getting dressed, we’ll go get some lunch. Are you hungry, Honey? Mommy is very hungry.
Totally normal, right? Waaaait for it…
Jacob: Is that why you were eating Daddy’s penis last night, Mommy?
OH-NO-HE-DIDN’T!!!! (Snap! Snap!)
I tried so hard to pretend I didn’t hear. I really did! But I was right next to them. Like, right next to them. I frantically tried to appear too busy to have noticed… diapering then re-diapering, diapering then re-diapering my child’s dry, clean diaper. But I ain’t no Academy Award winning actress! I couldn’t help but burst into a hyena-like laughter.
Only Anonymous Mom wasn’t really as amused by it all as I was. In fact, she was quickly turning a deep shade of purple. This (for obvious reasons) made me laugh even more. Seriously, this mom could write her own 50 Shades of Embarrassed.
I mean, what do you say in that situation? Seriously?
“Sucks to be you?” Pun TOTALLY intended!
She clearly wasn’t impressed by her son’s unfiltered verbatim. But wouldn’t you just laugh if off? I mean, woman to woman, we can joke about these things, non?
Anyways, she wasn’t having any of it. So I just shrugged and said “Ha! Kids will say the darndest things, eh?”
But it did get me thinking… Big J and I have a little intruders of our own who roam the house at night. So we, as responsible and horny parents, must take the necessary precautions to prevent such run-ins.
But when I told Big J about it, we had different perspectives on how best to handle such a run-in. His thinking was we simply invest in some child-proof door handles. Me? Well, I was thinking it’d be safer if Mama simply goes on a “hunger strike”. I even tried to convince him that it might result in a slimmer, sexier me… Right?
So the question I put forth to you is: how does one keep the fire burnin’ when the little rug rats have descended from the womb?
Cheers, Red Whino
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