Thursday, January 12, 2012

"Mommy's Stuff".....Rated PG-13

Lately, my mind has been operating in terms of the movie rating system.  So, to fairly warn you, this post is flirting with a PG-13 rating.....don't worry, the blog rating won't go any higher.  As I embarrass myself,  I don't want to embarrass my Biker Man, my Dad (Mac Daddy), or my Mother (R2D2 ) in the process.

Walmart was offering a free picture with Santa at the beginning of the holiday season this past year.  I was thrilled, as it satisfied Scout's desire to sit on Santa's lap and have a picture, since I paid a pretty penny to have it done the year before.  As Scout sat there talking to this really skinny guy playing Santa, I thought....."what an idyllic moment.  This is rated G."  But when we got to the counter to pick-up our picture, the guy in front of me wasn't very happy with, in his opinion, the not-so-speedy service that Walmart was offering along with their FREE picture with Santa.  He was fluently dropping the "F" bomb non-judiciously.  Well.....that was rated R for language.   I turned around to check Scout's safety as he perused the Lego isle, and saw a junior high aged girl with a tank top on that accentuated "the forepart of the body above the abdomen" (as described by The Webster's New World Thesaurus).  That was rated PG-13 for innuendo.  The movie rating system has certainly changed since I was a kid. What was  rated R in the 70's and 80's is now rated PG-13, and on occasion PG.  Our culture is riding on a PG-13 rating in general and you don't have to take your kids to the movies to see R rated material anymore.  Just take them out to pick-your-place in public, where you will hear R language, see  PG-13 (to R) rated modesty and could witness colorful family interactions and violence among spouses, and between parents and children, that are no where near a G rating.  Anyway.....I will step-down off my soapbox now.

We had an possible PG-13 incident a couple of years ago that rendered Biker Man into a state of the most hysterical laughter that I have seen him in, EVER, during our years together.  Of course he would never admit if he peed his pants, but I wouldn't have been surprised.  I lie.

Scout and I had finished up school for the day (yes, we are one of those strange home school families), and in the normal run of things for the afternoon, Scout was to go and stay in his room playing, while I took a shower.  He was five at the time and I still kept the bathroom door cracked, just in case I heard someone falling down the stairs or robbers (another one of Scout's favorite words from our recent, fine literature pick) kicking in the front door, or some other unlikely event.  He was fairly trustworthy to stay in his room, but knew if he was in a "mergency" that he could come and get me.  He also knew that blood had to be involved with a "mergency."

I finished in the shower and came out of our master bath into our bedroom to dress, and on the other side of my bed.....there stood my sweet baby boy.  A look came across his face that I will never forget.  I am a mother, and I can decipher in a split second the facial expressions on my child, and I knew that the expression he held did not involve the blood of even a hang nail.  The look of shock and disbelief came from the fact that he saw me.  It wasn't the "OH NO! I just got caught" look.  It was the, "I can't believe what I just SAW" look.  Yep, I was standing there without even the basic, leafy garden-wear that Eve would have fashioned herself.  There was no getting around the sight.  We are a pretty modest household, and the last time Scout would have seen anything like that, was before his biological memory kicked in.  Like, when I had to ween him from breastfeeding at three weeks.....

He ran into his room and didn't even attempt to come out, until I called him, after pulling myself together.  We, of course, had a conversation about disobedience, about privacy, and the importance of knocking.....blah, blah, blah.  I was seriously hoping he would just forget the whole thing, and I was going to do everything in my power to help him do so.  I actually thought he did.  Then, Biker Man came home from work.

As Biker Man came in the door, he proceeded through his wind-down routine, which involves changing clothes.  I followed him into our bedroom, overwhelming him with the million words, or so, a day that a woman is supposed to squeeze in  (Poor guy hadn't been in the door for five minutes).  When we walked in, there was Scout, standing at the same spot where his little psyche was burned straight through, and his eyes were wide......and unblinking.  "Papa!" He exclaimed with heartbreak in his voice, as if he had just witnessed a dog getting hit by a car.  "I.....I.....I saw Mommy today."  He stammered in a precious little boy voice.  Biker Man, with a look of confusion, turned to further question what Scout was communicating.  I took the lead to quickly interject and explain the incident to him, adding that he had bedtime duty tonight with the anatomy book.  He stood there with an appropriate amount of shock and a slight smirk on his face.   He then turned back to Scout and asked very slowly and calculated, "Well.....what did you see?"

The next thirty seconds proved to be one of the most hysterical moments of our family's history to date.  With as much serious reinactment that a five-year old could muster, Scout took his chubby little hand and waived it over his body, like a magician wielding his wand, from his neck to his knees and said....."I saw Mommy's stuff!!!!"  That's when I think I peed my pants.

 Rated PG-13 or R?  You decide.

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