Yee-Haw

It was 74 degrees in Georgia, yesterday. Sunny and breezy and the kind of day that was just meant for playing outside. Unfortunately I have been working like a dog all week ironing, hanging, and tagging a hundred kid sized pieces of clothing for consignment. And I was on a deadline. The drop-off date was today. So it was with much guilt that I looked out the window at the perfectness of the weather, knowing there was no way I could manage to bring Ben & Clara outdoors unless I could find a way to plug the iron in out there. And I am not quite sure how the HOA feels about outdoor ironing.

So, when Ben woke up for his nap around 5PM I gave him his standard instructions: "Go potty, put some pants on..." (he naps in his shirt and undees) and asked Allison to take him outside to play for an hour or so while I was making dinner. She happily complied and I was so relieved at having my mommy-guilt assuaged, and having one less mischief maker around during dinner preparations, I never gave it another thought.

An hour and a half later I called everyone for dinner. The kids came in from outside and The Man came up from the basement where his office is. As we were gathering around the table, The Man declared "Ben. Please go get some pants on before you sit down." I spun around.

Yep. The first warm day of the season and my kid was out front playing for AN HOUR AND A HALF in nothing but a t-shirt and his race-car underwear. No shoes. No pants. Forget worrying about outdoor ironing, I might as well just go ahead and hang a rebel flag from our mailbox, now. Our redneck status has been permanently solidified in the eyes of our returning-from-work neighbors. Who, I might add, are already none too pleased with our broken fence and the weed garden we have growing in our island.

"Oh Allison." I moaned. "Why didn't you make him put on some pants?" Picturing the neighborhood tongues wagging as I spoke. "You can't have possibly thought it was fine for him to be out there in his underwear!" She started sputtering and Brandon, finally grasping the situation, convulsed in a fit of laughter onto the floor.

Updated:
Although it is not very Worst Mama-like, I would like to note, in my defense, that I did peek outside to check on the kids during this hour and a half period. I spoke to Allison briefly about what she and Ben were playing, to make sure she was keeping a good eye on him. I just didn't realize from my vantage point that he was pantsless.