Today, I prayed the ground would split open and swallow me whole.
Today, I prayed Jesus would come back and take me off the face of the earth.
Today, I prayed aliens would abduct me.
Anything … ANYTHING to get me out of the Gymboree store I was in.
It wasn’t the fact I was about to spend too much money on “First Day Of School Outfits” that had my face flushed beet-red as I scrambled to hide behind racks of tot-sized clothing.
No, I was begging for mercy because, as I casually chatted with the Little Lady over accessories, I just happened to look up . . . and see my son trying on underwear.
Not just any underwear . . . he was trying on this:
And not in any size even remotely close to his own . . . no, Mr. Boy found THE largest pair in the entire store.
And, my sweet, sweet, sweet son didn’t simply pull them on over his clothing.
(if only)
No, Mr. Boy TRIED. THEM. ON.
There he was, in the middle of the store — smack dab in front of the registers. Naked as a Jay Bird . . . shoes, socks, shorts, and Buzz Lightyear underwear strewn about the floor beneath him.
The baggy, large red puppy dog under-roos were swinging about him like a kilt, with the waist-band directly under his arm-pits.
“Mommy! I tryin’ on unner-wear! Can I get ’em?”
“OH, MY WORD! NOOOOOOOOO“, I loudly (dear, Lord, why was I so loud?) exclaimed, dropping the bracelets and bows from my hands and racing over to grab my unbelievable child.
I couldn’t move quickly enough. I was in slow motion, hurdling over the baby’s stroller, dodging strange small children, my arms flailing out to capture my child before he lost the hold he had on the underwear and made the situation even worse.
I snatched Mr. Boy, bending over quickly to grab his discarded clothing, and ran to the back wall of the store, hunkering down behind dainty little girl clothing.
“YOU DON’T TRY ON UNDERWEAR! NO, NO, NO, NO.“, I hissed, glancing around to see if anyone noticed me fumbling in my rushed attempt to completely redress my child.
Then, as if nothing had happened and nothing was amiss, I stood up. Pretending with all my might to be calm, cool and collected.
And I quickly threw the baggy red undies to the bottom of a dress rack.
There is no shame in disposing of evidence.
