Caught In The Act

     Yep. We were. It happened. Before you die of embarrassment for me and wonder why in the world I'd even publish so private, let me say that I SWEAR it's a G rated story. No nudity. I won't even cuss in this post, all right? It's okay to read on, I promise. I promise! Plus, there might be something in here for you to laugh at or learn from.

     At the very least, you'll have something that you can make fun of me for. 

     So I'll just get right to it. This past weekend we put the kids to bed and put on a movie. It was boring. We moved on to a different activity. And before I say anything more, I want to suggest that someone do a study on the release of boring DVD's and birth rates 9 months later. I think I may be onto something.

     Anyway, as I was saying, we had moved on to a different activity and that's when a kid-an hour post bedtime-walked in.  Thankfully, clothing was still on (see, I told you- no nudity). However there was no denying that we were in a um.... compromising position. I sat up so fast that my head spun. And Mr. C, well- his reaction is the reason why I am sitting here telling you about this. While I was busy trying to figure out if I should lie, act like nothing was happening, or acknowledge the embarrassing situation, Mr. C's reaction was to jump up on his feet, put his hands out like a set of claws and to loudly exclaim "RAWR!"
     Picture this please: Me upright on the couch, bewildered kid in the doorway, and Mr. C frozen in his T-Rex stance, all of us looking around at one another in what had to be the world's most awkward triangular standoff.

     I've never been so confused in my life.

     In fact, I think Mr. C himself was feeling a little confused.

     Then he completely changed gears and said "What's up?" to which J stammered something about needing water. That's when the hilarity of the situation hit me, so that the whole time I was getting water and then later, laying there waiting for J to fall back asleep, I had to clasp both hands against my mouth to muffle my laughter. I mean, I was dying. Tears were streaming down my face, and I swear my abs haven't compressed that hard since I last did Cindy Crawford's workout. I was still laughing when it was time to walk back out into the living room. Unable to stand up straight, I stood in the doorway, held my palms out while giving Mr. C my best "What in the world?"look and asked him "What. Was. That????"
     With a completely straight face he looked at me and said, "I don't know! I guess....... I......it was a startling situation, and I guess I was just trying to startle him out of it."

     Well played Mr. C.

     The next morning nothing was said, no one acted weird, and life continued on, so I thought I was done with the whole uncomfortable subject. The universe had other plans for me.
     PG came home from her friend's house, where she was staying when the whole "incident" occurred. I found out that she had watched a movie over there that I had forbidden her to see because it contained a love scene (which surprised me because I had already let the parent over there know several months ago that she wasn't allowed to see that movie. But that's fodder for a different post).  I knew then that I had to have a talk with her. 

     Before I say anything, you should know that my instinct with all this sex talk stuff is just to basically ignore it. It's how I was raised. My father left the room every time a tampon commercial came on the television, and although I think my mother knew that we were stealing the "Where Did I Come From?" book off of her therapy shelf, she never said anything. Maybe she just figured we'd ask questions if we had any. We never did because basically, our understanding of sex was this: "Don't do it. You're not allowed." Maybe not the best approach, but in our family we choose denial over embarrassment, so it worked for us.
     Anyway, I decided to step out of my comfort zone and go with a more modern approach with PG. After holding her accountable for watching a movie that she knew she wasn't allowed to see, I brought up the love scene and tried to gage what her understanding of it was. With a very red face she informed me that she knew the characters were having sex. So I used that as a jumping off point and told her that movies make it seem like it's not a big deal when it really is a big deal, a very big deal. The whole time she's dying and saying "Mom! Okay. Stop. I know. I know." (See? Denial over embarrassment. It's genetic. I probably should've gone with my initial instincts.) Anyway, I ended up kind of backpedaling out of the conversation and ending it by saying "Look. Sex is not like in the movies. It's why I don't want you watching it. I don't want you thinking about it. You're 8. Go be 8. Don't think about sex." Relieved, she jumped off the kitchen stool, turned to me and said "Anyway, mom. Come on! They were in Paris, France!" I waited for a moment to see if those pieces would click into place, and when they didn't, said, "Um. What does that have to do with it?" And she said (not a little incredulously), "Paris? France? It's the city of love, mom." Then she rolled her eyes and walked away.

     Lordy. I have one child who apparently thinks that sex is okay as long as you're in Paris, France and another child who knows just a bit too much about what happens in our own living room.
     There are days when I think just having a dog would've been okay. A lot less mentally exhausting at least. 

     Have a good night!