Today, I effed up by not knocking on my own front door 😲😳

With a 15-year-old boy in the house, my husband and I have grown used to the routine—knock knock, laptop screen slam, "juST A MINUTE!" scramble scramble, "...ok" dance. We've grown accustomed to silently replenishing his room with tissues almost daily. We've adapted to herding the two younger ones to the downstairs bathroom while they wonder why their brother is taking so long in the shower. We’ve even come to expect the occasional tightly bundled sheets or towels in the laundry hamper with a sticky note on top reading "wash separately." What we didn’t foresee was that the minute everyone else was out of the house, the living room would become fair game. After driving halfway down the block without my phone, I decided to just walk back to the house because parking in our odd driveway takes more time than the walk. I unlocked and opened the front door in the span of a couple of seconds. That was my mistake. How could I be so careless as to think I could just open my own front door? What was I thinking? I should have knocked. I should have jangled my keys for 30 seconds before unlocking the door. I should have worn a cowbell. Anything to prevent me from seeing my darling offspring, my beautiful baby boy, my only son—pants down, humping the couch through a strategically placed towel.

Subscribe For More Stories! 📖💖

свернуть