Good morning, everyone.
It is Friday, and we are off to Tulsa this afternoon. Yay.
Well, this post is going to be a total embarrassment to my kids one day. What goes on the net is forever, they say (whoever "they" is), and someday my teenage sons, or their friends, or their girlfriends might go looking through my blog archives and stumble across these humiliating stories.
Aren't all teens supposed to be embarrassed by their parents anyway? Maybe if I'm lucky they'll have a good sense of humor about it.
Probably not.
The thing is, at this point in their lives, I'm trying to figure out how to keep them in their pants.
The minute they get home from school backpacks get dropped on the dining room table, we rush to the bathroom, and emerge two minutes later naked from the waist down. Occasionally they're completely naked, but mostly half.
I guess I just find it strange the amount of time I spend trying to get them to put their clothes back on.
And why? Why do they want to run around the house naked?
I don't get it.
Maybe it's a guy thing.
Maybe it's a little kid thing.
Maybe it just is what it is.
So I guess I'll just keep insisting they put their clothes back on, and hopefully there will be a day when I don't have to chase giggling naked kids through the house with a pair of underwear in each hand.
Later.
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