My little baby is 10 now.
When Josh was born and the mid wife put him in my arms, I kept going on about how tiny he was. I admired his tiny little face, and tiny hands, and tiny ears, bla bla bla. (If you think about it until the second Josh was born, my baby was Evan who was almost 4 at the time.) Then I looked up from my new tiny baby and saw all the people in the room looking at me like I was on crack. I said WHAT? and they collectively agreed that my baby was by no stretch of the imagination a little baby. They were already sizing him up for his football uniform.
So, my not tiny baby turned 10 yesterday. I had to fight off a stress funk all day. To make matters worse, contributing to my stress funk was the fact that I had barely slept for 2 nights due to the hurricane force winds that have me convinced that trees are all going to crack in half and take aim for the window in my bedroom. I also invited some utopian (guess where we are! We are hiding from the floor refinishers in utopia for a few more hours) friends over for dinner.
I'm so freaking stressed cranky that there isn't a sight or sound that doesn't irritate me these days. The husband was doing a good job in the irritate me department yesterday morning when he who has decided that he will not age like the classy guy he pretended to be when I met him and that any and all pants are now too unbearably restricting to wear in the house and it is preferable to prance around in your boxer shorts, slipped his jeans off in the living room right in front of Josh, Matt and Josh's friend.
Eventually, we all got our lazy butts into gear and the husband took the kids and Josh's pal to the movies while I headed for the local supermarket to lay in some dinner food.
But not before they had left and I spotted the husband's jeans on the living room chair and had to stop to wonder about the possibility that the husband had taken the kids to the movies in nothing below the waist but his boxer shorts. I decided that while my kids would have been oblivious to the husband's partial nudity, their friend is more astute and would have pointed it out in the most dignified way possible. But I kind of hoped that there was a chance the husband was at the movies pretending he had red silk shorts on.
My leg/knee had been feeling kind of stiff and annoying for a few hours ever since I had put on my jeans, but I didn't stop to pay attention to exactly what was going on until I was strolling down the supermarket aisle. What was going on was that there was something in my pants leg right behind my knee. This would explain both my morning knee stiffness and vague feeling of jean leg strangulation.
While standing at the butcher counter waiting for my dinner protein to weighed and packed up I tried to slide my arm down to behind my knee via my waistline pants opening. I couldn't slide my arm down far enough. What ever it was it was going to have to come out the bottom. I had my big clonking boots on, so I tried doing some kind of spastic foot to the side stomp as I strolled away from the butcher counter, but that was not going to be effective either. In the end I just tolerated the foreign lump behind my knee, walking those aisles like my leg was asleep, until I got to back to the house and then I went to the bathroom, pulled down my pants and found I had been toting around a spare pair of undies.
Seriously, if only I had had an urgent case of the poops while in the supermarket, those undies would have given my story such a happy ending! You never have a spare pair when you really need them.
The kids came back, the friends came over and dinner was very nice. That bottle of wine I drank all by myself did wonders for my mood, and then we presented Josh with his cake and a huge stack of birthday cards. Josh held court, reading the cards out loud one by one (like a pro, loud and clear and with dramatic intonation!). Josh read the funny brother birthday cards, the sentimental son birthday cards and the cutesie now you're 10 years old birthday cards, and then just as I had ducked into the kitchen to grab an extra cake fork, Josh read out loud "On your birthday, How'd you like to watch Brett PUMP IRON in the nude?" and I ran back in to the room full of stunned people, plucked the card out of Josh's hand and had to explain that that card was one I picked up for Wildmom's birthday next week. Oooops. My bad.
Happy birthday to the young man!
And that's happened to me, too, the undies-in-the-pants experience. Right at work, and I caught them right before they slid out of my jeans in the corridor on the way to the principal's office - a little sexy deep-red g-string ... I would not have lived it down if they had hit the floor!
Posted by: Pippa | February 22, 2011 at 04:26 PM