We have a moderate sense of propriety in our home. And that's about it. Sometimes I'd rather not get fully dressed to go to the laundry room to iron the clothes I need to wear for the day, so I give out a warning before I dash down the hallway in my bra and undies. At some point in their lives our kids have figured out that Od goes commando. It probably involved laundry observations and basic equations, followed by a simple question and an honest answer.
I believe in being honest with my kids. Age appropriately honest. There are no areas of conversations that I avoid to save them or myself embarrassment. Believe me, they know this. When teenagers push boundaries like bedtime, and are staying up later and later (encroaching Mom and Dad's alone time) you just have to lay the truth out there with a touch of shock value. This does 2 things. It combats the inevitable argument about why they think they should get to stay up as late as they want, and it subtly reinforces the idea that responsible parenthood does not, in fact, equal the death of a sex life. Closed doors mean you better knock first and request entrance and "now is not a good time" means go away or suffer the consequences.
What I'm getting at is that we do our best to keep our private life private. *heavy sigh* Most of the time. Yesterday I slipped and it ended in one of those stories that my kids will probably be telling for a long time.
I was helping my son take photos for a class project. (at the last minute, naturally) The memory card wasn't cleared of all photos, but I triple checked that thing for naughty photos and deleted them all. (so I thought)
We took the required photos, I handed him the card to do his thing on the computer and about 5 minutes later I hear my two kids collaborating in the bedroom hallway (never a good sign) and my son asks " Hey Mom? Why is there a picture of your nipple on this card?"
Of course, being ridiculous like I am, I bust out laughing. It can't be helped. Things can't be unseen at this point and I hear my daughter yelling "Mother!!!" in a mocked outrageous tone of voice. In less time than I can calm myself, Od has raced upstairs to son's room and when I meet him there (as daughter gives me disapproving looks and continues her attempt at shaming me) he has son pushed to the side and is clicking, clicking, clicking. I'm searching the thumbnails for the incriminating evidence, and...........ah. There it is.
I do what anybody else would do. I deflect. "Well, your dad took the picture, so ask him!" Yep. I did it. I totally tossed him under the bus. He looked at me with astonishment, because I just told a lie to my children to save a little bit of dignity. He and I both know he had nothing to do with that picture. I silently dare him to contradict me. Wisely - he doesn't. He does what any good man would do. He takes the hit and saves his damsel in distress. Now daughter lays into him with comments about being a pervert and setting bad examples for innocent children. (she'll be such a good mother some day.....)
He takes the card back to clear it and I walk away spouting life lessons over my shoulder like "See? That's why naughty pictures are NEVER a good idea! Don't do it or you'll regret it!" which I followed up with a quick NDA laced with subtle threats and motherly guilt. Let's hope it sticks.
When I finally untangled myself from that ugly monster of a situation I walked into the kitchen to be met by my husband who casually mentioned "Wow. I didn't even see that bus coming." I think he was secretly relieved that I managed to delete the photos of him that were on that card. Because explaining why Dad took a sneaky photo of Mom's boob is easier to process than trying to understand why Dad is strapped to the bed on all fours, naked with a cock ring on and a hand print on hiss ass. Doncha think? ;)