Exactly Why I Should Not Even Wear Underwear

Stop me if you have heard this before.  I say that for two reasons: (1) My real world friends and imaginary friends have begun to collide, so I may have told you this before. (2) More importantly, I pray this has happened to at least one other person so it will sound familiar to you.

The boys and I are running around town the other day running errands. Little Man congratulated me from the back between stops and says “Mommy, you have been so good today I think you deserve a coffee”. I smile at the idea that positive reinforcement must be having an effect on the boy and point the car in the direction of my favorite drive through coffee establishment. Little Man then adds “and brother and I get chocolate milk”. I rarely deny either boy anything; partially because I am a sucker and the other because frankly, he was so darn persuasive.

I pull up to the little white noise box and place my order; my coffee and two milks. To my surprise, this is the only time the guy behind the box does not offer me one of his luscious tarts. Although I am slightly disappointed and wonder if he was able to see through the microphone, I proceed to get my fix. My little coffee boy toy pops his head out of the window and provides my total due with a large smile on his face; a smirk almost. He then offers me one of his luscious tarts. As my ego is repairing itself, I decline and hand him the amount due. At this time, the boys are being their normal silly selves; singing along to the radio and dancing. As I pull away from the window, I turn to hand the boys their drinks and notice the cause of the smirk and the offer I was just given.

The Babe. Wearing my underwear. On his head.

All I could do was laugh. I guess some static cling hide the little surprise in his shirt and I did not notice it when I helped him dress. Or, the conspiracy theorist in me thinks my boys are already geniuses and know how to embarrass mommy. This wouldn’t happen if I didn’t wear underwear.