“Children are the anchors that hold a mother to life.”
For the past few weeks Kiddo has been part of a kid’s program that takes ‘them’ on lots of different adventures including a recent visit to the local pool.
Parents take turns volunteering during certain field trip events and for this particular one, I sat on the sidelines and stayed home.
Kiddo came home with a reminder note from the program that said:
Dear Parents, Please have your child arrive with their swimsuits underneath their clothes so they are ready to go.
A date and time then followed along with instructions for transportation.
I pinned the note to my refrigerator being sure to set out a swimsuit for Kiddo the night before the big day arrived.
Come the day of swimming, Kiddo was ready to go and just as instructed, ‘them’ was in their swimsuit with clothes on top.
A few hours later, Kiddo returned. “How was swimming?” I asked.
Kiddo shared it was fun.
“Where is your swimsuit?” I inquired.
I pulled up ‘them’s’ clothes to have a look. No swimsuit.
Oh No! As I peered down Kiddo’s pants, it then hit me that I forgot to send undershorts along.
Quite, honestly, it never even occurred to me given I was so focused on remembering the day, the time, and the swimsuit.
What makes things even more strange is Kiddo WAS wearing undershorts but whose?
They were not any that I recognized.
“Who’s undershorts are these?” I kindly inquired.
Kiddo’s head fell down with guilt as ‘them’ then said, “Are you mad?”
I held back a laugh by biting down hard on my lip.
“Nope,” I grinned. “I’m not mad. Now please tell me who’s undershorts these are?”
Kiddo was reluctant at first, face a pout. With a little more coaxing and a hug, Kiddo finally blurted out, “They’re Sammy’s”
A cackle erupted from my mouth.
“Honey,” I said, doing my best to compose myself. “Does Sammy know you have these undershorts?”
I had to hold my stomach now I was laughing so hard.
Kiddo began backing away, probably unsure of how to react.
Composing myself, I asked again, “Honey, does Sammy know you took the undershorts.”
Kiddo shrugged, “I dunno’”
I began to imagine some poor child in the swimming room frantically looking for their undershorts because Kiddo felt the need to steal them off the floor.
Talk about sink or swim. And call me crazy, this caused me to laugh even more.
In all honesty, laughing is a coping mechanism on my part to release strong emotions.
I mean come on. I send my child to go swimming without a towel or dry undershorts.
“Okay, Kiddo,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief, “Thank you for telling me. Let’s take off these undershorts so I can clean them and you can return them to Sammy.”
As Kiddo pulled them down, the shorts were streaked with “bacon strips” and I have no idea if they were Kiddo’s or not.
Who was laughing now?!