I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to blame this on Baby Daddy or at least on the Y chromosome.
When I dropped Monkey Boy off at school this morning, his teacher asked me to step into another room for a second. She began, “I want to tell you what happened yesterday, but I don’t want your son to be in trouble…”
So right away, I knew this is not going to be a story about how fabulously smart my kid is.
She continued, “I’m not really sure how it happened or really what was going on at all. He and a group of boys were playing chase on the playground. When we looked up, his pants were down and the other boys were looking very intently at his bottom.” In an attempt to make me feel better, ( I was rubbing my temples because of the gigantic headache that was forming) she told me, “This is not the first time something like this has happened. And it’s not even really the worst thing we’ve seen on the playground. It’s not like he hurt anyone” (I’m sure she means, except for the emotional scars of seeing such a blindingly white buttocks.)
I don’t know why I followed up, but I really did want to be clear, “So he mooned the playground?” She began to stifle a laugh, “Yes.”
That was kind of all it took. We both started to snicker. I would have claimed he’s in a phase, but I don’t think phases last until you’re 25, which is how long I suspect mooning people will be funny to him.
I asked her if she talked to him about it. She said she told him he had to keep his pants on when he’s at school, and if nothing happens again, she’s gonna chalk it up to Halloween and boys.
I am so grateful he has a teacher who keeps dumb kid stuff in perspective. But really, is there some law of the Universe that demands Monkey Boy ALWAYS be the one doing the dumb kid stuff?
I think this just proves that Baby Daddy and I are awesome parents.