Guest Post by Cassandra Head
OK, here’s a subject that we must have all been exposed to or experienced ourselves at some stage of our relationships. Let’s face it, if we have kids we are always sailing close to the wind, pushing the envelope, or whatever you would like to call it, in our quest to spend some serious Mummy time with the person who got us into this gig in the first place. You with me here?!
I guess I have developed a bit of a phobia about “Coitus Interruptus” over the years and lost a lot of my spontaneous sense of wicked fun. Mind you, Hubby hasn’t! He is as keen wherever, whenever and however as he was the day I met him. Some things never change, hey! It’s a bloke thing!
Well I am not going to bore you with close calls or divulge too much information that might put you off your breakfast or worse still, bring to your front of mind tantric thoughts. I will however confess to the closest call I ever had. Picture a number in your head that is usually associated with this subject (starts with sixty in case you are struggling!) So, with doona muffling all sounds of impending children, the normal early warning alarm was de-activated and with Hubby’s eyes firmly shut – children furtherest from his thoughts, you know what I mean? In walks Son and sits on bed and just stares at us both, who by now are in a state of shock. You know that look a hare gives you when it is sitting in the middle of the road staring into your headlights as you bear down on it at a hundred kilometers an hour? That was us, scrambling for an explanation that would satisfy the most inquiring young mind.
“Daddy’s fixing Mummy’s back” (used that before have you?) wasn’t going to cut it. While we were frantically trying to get dressed and find discarded clothing I couldn’t help but notice the blank stare of said Son. OMG we have damaged the poor child, “He will need counselling” type thoughts racing through my mind, along with revenge thoughts. For example, “It is all your fault” (Hubby’s); “It was all your idea” (Hubby’s); “You wanted it” (Hubby’s); “I’m never going to forgive you for putting me in this awkward situation” (yep, him again!)
Then a new kind of panic, Son must be sick. Oh no, feel forehead for temperature, it’s cool, asking questions, “Do you feel OK?”, “Is everything alright?”, “Can’t you sleep?”. Then it dawned on me. Son is sleepwalking, can you believe it, we may have got away with it, Son, is actually still asleep! Punch into the air, yes! Popped Son back into his bed and thankfully he was none the wiser in the morning. There is a God after all! Mind you, killed the moment if you know what I mean!
But, that was not the worst time I have been busted with my pants down, oh no. What I am about to tell you really takes the cake, trust me!
You know when you are out shopping with the kids, have the trolley full of groceries and you have well, let’s say “Got your Monthly’s”? You feel you are going to be flooded if you don’t attend to the crisis ASAP? You with me here? So what to do, toilet, trolley, kids, urgency ….. Aha, the disabled toilet at the shopping centre. There is room for all of you, the trolley the kids, you can lock the door and get it all sorted. Kill lots of birds with one stone. Kids can go to the toilet and there is no argument about having to go with Mummy to the Ladies when you are a boy, all that stuff. The disabled toilet is unisex, right, no argument. No one would deny me that I am actually in a state of disablement at this point in time, heaven help anyone that stops me at this point saying that I can’t use this amenity.
Have equipment ready in position, partially hidden from kids, (if you get my drift) and you would not believe what happened next….. What happened left me momentarily frozen to the toilet seat, pants around my ankles, five steps away from the door with my hand …. (oh need I explain?) and the door opens? People are walking past looking, staring, thankfully not backtracking to get a second look! Darling Son had pressed the button that automatically opens the door! Shit. While I scream “SHUT THE DOOR”! Son doesn’t know how and is terrified at his Mother who is in a state of terror, her face is enough to scare you to your core. Hell, they were the longest seconds of my life. I dragged myself and my pants to the door, pressed the SHUT button and hid behind the door jamb while the electronic door, ever so slowly, closed. My blood was pumping, heart racing, face purple with embarrassment, kids traumatized, not to mention what state the exposed shoppers are in. How was I going to face the outside world? I might have to stay in the toilet for an hour just to make sure anyone that witnessed that had left the building. I eventually straightened myself up positioned my head in an upward tilt pressed the open door button and walked out as if nothing had happened then hightailed it to the car and outta there.
That, SAHM’s was the worst time I ever got caught with my pants down! How about you?
Cassandra Head is a Rainbow Beach Mum of two boys and runs Rainbow Beach Hire a Camp Service.