One of my absolute favorite things to do with my kids is to read to them. Since I happen to have a borderline obsession with children's books, I get absolutely giddy when they want to share in my love of literature. That's why the bedtime story is one of my most treasured times of the day -- that is, until one of my twins decides to moon me right in the freakin' middle of Harry Potter.
And so it was the other night, when we all settled in to my son's room to get all cozy with a good read. My daughter was snuggling Patches, the guinea pig, as he happily munched on his own turds (gross but true), my husband was nodding off as he typically does during story time, and my son was hanging from his bunk bed like a monkey. Now this may seem odd to some families, but to ours, this is pretty much the general state of the union around here. Yes, everyone was totally and completely mesmerized by Mr. Potter and all his sorcery.
But just as I was about to wrap up my tale-telling for the evening, my son, the comedian, took it upon himself to squash the warm and fuzzy mood in the room in one fell swoop. He stood on his bed, turned around, and promptly dropped trou right then and there. I glanced up from the book just in time to see a bare naked little tushy wiggling from side to side in front of me.
Really, dude? Now how was I supposed to act all parent-y while my son was so proudly displaying his first official "full moon"? So I did the only thing I could do. I made a beeline out of the room so he wouldn't hear all my giggling.