13 March 2006
Where we don't put 'em 2 (accidents will happen)
Five (clever pseudonym plan herewith revealed) called me, a bit mournfully, from the cracked open door of the bathroom. I figured it was an "oops" (it happens to the best of us, especially the part of "us" that is male).
There he was, looking solemn, "Mom? Mom? Um, I, uh, accidentally, uh...I accidentally, um..."
"Accidentally what, honey?" I query, looking at the floor for telltale evidence. His shorts are on the floor, but no, um, evidence is. And Five is not looking at the floor. He's looking up. Way up. I follow the trajectory and notice something on the top of the curtains on the wee high-up window.
"Mom, uh uh, I sorry, but, uh, I accidentally, um, . . . throw . . . my underpants. . . . ."
There he was, looking solemn, "Mom? Mom? Um, I, uh, accidentally, uh...I accidentally, um..."
"Accidentally what, honey?" I query, looking at the floor for telltale evidence. His shorts are on the floor, but no, um, evidence is. And Five is not looking at the floor. He's looking up. Way up. I follow the trajectory and notice something on the top of the curtains on the wee high-up window.
"Mom, uh uh, I sorry, but, uh, I accidentally, um, . . . throw . . . my underpants. . . . ."
