A three day weekend. Nothing to do but be lazy. Don't even need to get dressed if I don't want to. I was soooo looking forward to that. And then...the Teenager ruined it.
We've had a long standing agreement, he and I. He would warn me if he had friends walking in the door, and I'd make sure I was wearing a bra when they did. After all, I'm just a little too endowed, and gravity has taken too cruel of a toll, for me to run around in front of teenage boys with no bra on. I don't recall if it was started at his suggestion or mine, but it has worked very well for us. No embarrassment for anyone.
So here I sat, being lazy, and I hear him holler at me..."Mom! Put a bra on!"
Damn. Friends are coming over.
I know that at one point, what I wanted most out of being a mom was having the house everyone loved to come to. I wanted all of their friends to be so comfortable with me that they'd all call me "Mom" and just walk in my front door. And they do.
It is possible, though, that I didn't think this through very well. I didn't take into account that I would really, really, really want to spend a full few days with no restricting underclothes on.
Having daughters might have been easier, since I wouldn't have to worry so much about boobs and how they'd be worried about, but it would have been nowhere near as entertaining as having sons.