Giving The Locals A Peep Show

I really thank God for my kids sometimes. If it weren't for the funny things they do on a daily basis I'd probably be in a looney bin. I've had the worst case of PMS the past few days. I swear the older I get the worse my symptoms get. My meds aren't even cutting it, I'm an impatient, moody, crabby beotch.

Yesterday T. came to the rescue. After we had gotten W. off to school, T. asked if he could change into shorts and a sleeveless shirt. T. usually changes at least three times a day unless I'm paying attention. I have enough laundry to do and he's only 4, nobody cares what he's wearing. I swear he's going to be the next Tommy Hilfiger when he grows up. If I need to change R.'s clothes due to an accident, as she is STILL not potty trained, he'll yell, "I'll pick out her outfit." And he comes back with a perfectly matched one to boot.

Anyway, I tell him he can change because it's now very hot. Then he shouts from his room, "Can I take off my underwear." I'm assuming he, um, how shall I say it, has a skid. I tell him to make sure to place them in the laundry so I can wash them right away. He comes down and goes outside in his shorts and tank top.

The day goes by. He plays, he goes to the vet with Mr. Schmitty and Ruby, he goes to the post office with me, and the bank, and the grocery store. When we get home he sits down on the floor to take off his shoes.

That's when I see it. His little wee-wee hanging to the left.

"Where's your underwear?"

"You told me I could take them off."

I think, "I did?" Then I remember.

"T., that was hours ago and I thought you were putting on new ones! I didn't think you were going to go commando all day!"

"What's commando?"

Sheesh.