Common sense is not one of my strong suits. Well, maybe I should say that utilizing common sense is not one of my strong suits. I have plenty of common sense, but usually I choose not to use it. I know the difference between right and wrong and I know the difference between appropriate and inappropriate. But if you give me a situation in which a proposed response is the appropriate one but the other option will garner more laughs, I’ll give you a guess as to which response I’ll give.
Like I said, it’s not that I don’t know better, but the problem is I’m always looking to get a laugh or to shock people. I was having a conversation with my mother the other night regarding my blogs and how sometimes I step over that line in order to get a reaction. I told her that was my entire goal. If it stuck with her as gross/inappropriate/wrong, at least it stuck with her. Now, I could tell you tons of stories of me not utilizing common sense (and I probably will as long as I know people continue to read this little blog of mine), but this morning I shocked even myself. In fact, I still don’t know what to think of it.
Let me set the scene
I took Ben into daycare at the normal time, and as he customarily does when he is really tired in the morning, he latched on to me and didn’t want me to leave. This doesn’t happen regularly, but it does so often enough that I’ve developed a solution to get him to go sit down and eat his breakfast: I bribe him. I barely leave myself enough time to get to work on time in the morning without taking him to daycare. Taking him there pushes me back an extra 10 to 15 minutes due to getting him ready and walking him into the building. When he does his “don’t go daddy” thing, it takes up even more time so I have rationalized that a bribe (even though it’s probably the reason that he continues to repeat this action) is justified because it gets me to work that much closer to 8:00. Anyway, Ben had latched on and I was just about to offer him his bribe of a Peppermint Patty for after dinner tonight when his favorite teacher walked in.
Now, the majority of Ben’s teachers are college aged girls and some of them aren’t ugly. No, I’m not some obsessed creepy pervy dad who drops his kid off to gawk at all of the girls that take care of Ben, but I’m also not blind and I can admit when I spot an attractive girl/woman. I will also let it be known that I love Carol and she is the only woman for me forever and ever. That being said, Ben’s teacher was showing a lot of skin today and it caught me off guard. She picked him up directly and he was a happy guy again. She told him that he was her favorite and that they were best friends. At that point Ben forgot about me and I was able to leave.
And you thought I was going to say something inappropriate to the teacher.
Shame on you.
Anyway, when I said I was able to leave, that’s not quite true. I was ALMOST able to leave when one of Ben’s friends said that Ben was wearing green – which he was. For some reason, this prompted me to look around the room and I noticed that almost half of the kids were wearing green today. To this, I mentioned out loud to the boy “I think almost half of the kids are wearing green today.”
I’m not sure if that broke some sort of gangland code or what, but as I took a few more steps out of the room about five of the little green wearing rugrats surrounded me like a gang of playground marauders and blocked my exit. I wasn’t sure what to do as usually the kids don’t pay attention to me at all. I tried to get to the hallway, but they continued to circle me. At this point, the leader of the gang looked at me with a look of determination and told me in all of the seriousness that a 3 year old could muster,
“I’m wearing underwear today.”
Now, had this been an adult, I would have come up with some quick-witted, snappy remark that would have evoked a laugh out of either the other person, the people surrounding, or maybe just myself. But, being as he was only 3, I developed a sense of pride for the little guy. Ben himself has just moved onto big boy underwear adorned with various Disney characters and such, so I knew how proud this little guy was in telling me that he was wearing them too. I didn’t want to discourage or ignore him, so I promptly responded with “I’m wearing underwear today too.”
This is where it gets weird.
See, I’m a big fan of funderwear. I’ve been a religious wearer of boxer shorts for as long as I can remember. In the past few years though, I’ve discovered boxer briefs which are quickly replacing all of the boxers in my underwear drawer. Carol, understanding what a big kid I am, has added to my enjoyment of boxer briefs by buying me what I have deemed “funderwear.” Funderwear are like Underoos for adults. I’ve gotten a pair of Superman boxer briefs (funderwear) and a very colorful pair of Marvel Superheroes boxer briefs (see above picture). I love these and am not shy about dropping a portion of my pants to show anyone who may be curious to see them. Ben is also wearing funderwear now as his most recent pack of little tighty-whities also have Marvel superheroes on them. As I was doing laundry yesterday, I was amazed at how cool his little underwear were. They weren’t the cool Underoos from my youth, but they were pretty cool.
So, when I told the little guy at daycare that I was wearing underwear today too, he proceeded to pull down his pants a little to show me what kind he was wearing.
Now, the old Scott probably would have looked because a) I don’t want to discourage the kid from wearing his big boy underwear and throwing him back 3 months in the whole potty-training process, and b) I was curious what other types of funderwear were out there. I mean, we buy Ben’s at Target and I know what’s on their shelves, but if this kid’s parents shopped somewhere else, maybe I’d have to take Ben there to get some even cooler funderwear than he already has.
The new Scott, however, (the I-don’t-want-to-go-to-jail-and-have-to-explain-all-of-this-to-my-wife-family-and-judge-only-to-be-comvicted-and-have-to-end-up-showing-my-funderwear-to-a-large-inmate-named-Bubba-who-calls-me-“sweetcheeks”-every-night Scott) realized immediately that this could turn out REALLLLLLLLLY bad despite my best of intentions, said laughingly “I’m not gonna show you MY underwear,” elbowed my way out of the gang of misfits, and made a beeline for the door.
As I passed the director’s office, she thanked me (apparently I have a loud voice so she heard the entire exchange) for not showing the kids my underwear as that would have caused problems that we don’t need to deal with. I was glad I had her approval.
As I got in my car, I reflected on what had just happened. I had used common sense and had been applauded for it. I felt good. I felt proud. I felt grown up. I also felt that it was a good thing that I wasn’t wearing my Marvel funderwear because those kids would have LOVED them.
Too far again, Mom? Love you!!
Thanks for reading.
Like I said, it’s not that I don’t know better, but the problem is I’m always looking to get a laugh or to shock people. I was having a conversation with my mother the other night regarding my blogs and how sometimes I step over that line in order to get a reaction. I told her that was my entire goal. If it stuck with her as gross/inappropriate/wrong, at least it stuck with her. Now, I could tell you tons of stories of me not utilizing common sense (and I probably will as long as I know people continue to read this little blog of mine), but this morning I shocked even myself. In fact, I still don’t know what to think of it.
Let me set the scene
I took Ben into daycare at the normal time, and as he customarily does when he is really tired in the morning, he latched on to me and didn’t want me to leave. This doesn’t happen regularly, but it does so often enough that I’ve developed a solution to get him to go sit down and eat his breakfast: I bribe him. I barely leave myself enough time to get to work on time in the morning without taking him to daycare. Taking him there pushes me back an extra 10 to 15 minutes due to getting him ready and walking him into the building. When he does his “don’t go daddy” thing, it takes up even more time so I have rationalized that a bribe (even though it’s probably the reason that he continues to repeat this action) is justified because it gets me to work that much closer to 8:00. Anyway, Ben had latched on and I was just about to offer him his bribe of a Peppermint Patty for after dinner tonight when his favorite teacher walked in.
Now, the majority of Ben’s teachers are college aged girls and some of them aren’t ugly. No, I’m not some obsessed creepy pervy dad who drops his kid off to gawk at all of the girls that take care of Ben, but I’m also not blind and I can admit when I spot an attractive girl/woman. I will also let it be known that I love Carol and she is the only woman for me forever and ever. That being said, Ben’s teacher was showing a lot of skin today and it caught me off guard. She picked him up directly and he was a happy guy again. She told him that he was her favorite and that they were best friends. At that point Ben forgot about me and I was able to leave.
And you thought I was going to say something inappropriate to the teacher.
Shame on you.
Anyway, when I said I was able to leave, that’s not quite true. I was ALMOST able to leave when one of Ben’s friends said that Ben was wearing green – which he was. For some reason, this prompted me to look around the room and I noticed that almost half of the kids were wearing green today. To this, I mentioned out loud to the boy “I think almost half of the kids are wearing green today.”
I’m not sure if that broke some sort of gangland code or what, but as I took a few more steps out of the room about five of the little green wearing rugrats surrounded me like a gang of playground marauders and blocked my exit. I wasn’t sure what to do as usually the kids don’t pay attention to me at all. I tried to get to the hallway, but they continued to circle me. At this point, the leader of the gang looked at me with a look of determination and told me in all of the seriousness that a 3 year old could muster,
“I’m wearing underwear today.”
Now, had this been an adult, I would have come up with some quick-witted, snappy remark that would have evoked a laugh out of either the other person, the people surrounding, or maybe just myself. But, being as he was only 3, I developed a sense of pride for the little guy. Ben himself has just moved onto big boy underwear adorned with various Disney characters and such, so I knew how proud this little guy was in telling me that he was wearing them too. I didn’t want to discourage or ignore him, so I promptly responded with “I’m wearing underwear today too.”
This is where it gets weird.
See, I’m a big fan of funderwear. I’ve been a religious wearer of boxer shorts for as long as I can remember. In the past few years though, I’ve discovered boxer briefs which are quickly replacing all of the boxers in my underwear drawer. Carol, understanding what a big kid I am, has added to my enjoyment of boxer briefs by buying me what I have deemed “funderwear.” Funderwear are like Underoos for adults. I’ve gotten a pair of Superman boxer briefs (funderwear) and a very colorful pair of Marvel Superheroes boxer briefs (see above picture). I love these and am not shy about dropping a portion of my pants to show anyone who may be curious to see them. Ben is also wearing funderwear now as his most recent pack of little tighty-whities also have Marvel superheroes on them. As I was doing laundry yesterday, I was amazed at how cool his little underwear were. They weren’t the cool Underoos from my youth, but they were pretty cool.
So, when I told the little guy at daycare that I was wearing underwear today too, he proceeded to pull down his pants a little to show me what kind he was wearing.
Now, the old Scott probably would have looked because a) I don’t want to discourage the kid from wearing his big boy underwear and throwing him back 3 months in the whole potty-training process, and b) I was curious what other types of funderwear were out there. I mean, we buy Ben’s at Target and I know what’s on their shelves, but if this kid’s parents shopped somewhere else, maybe I’d have to take Ben there to get some even cooler funderwear than he already has.
The new Scott, however, (the I-don’t-want-to-go-to-jail-and-have-to-explain-all-of-this-to-my-wife-family-and-judge-only-to-be-comvicted-and-have-to-end-up-showing-my-funderwear-to-a-large-inmate-named-Bubba-who-calls-me-“sweetcheeks”-every-night Scott) realized immediately that this could turn out REALLLLLLLLLY bad despite my best of intentions, said laughingly “I’m not gonna show you MY underwear,” elbowed my way out of the gang of misfits, and made a beeline for the door.
As I passed the director’s office, she thanked me (apparently I have a loud voice so she heard the entire exchange) for not showing the kids my underwear as that would have caused problems that we don’t need to deal with. I was glad I had her approval.
As I got in my car, I reflected on what had just happened. I had used common sense and had been applauded for it. I felt good. I felt proud. I felt grown up. I also felt that it was a good thing that I wasn’t wearing my Marvel funderwear because those kids would have LOVED them.
Too far again, Mom? Love you!!
Thanks for reading.
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