I wasn't going to post about this because family members read my blog, and, you know, imagery. But this is what blogging is supposed to be about, life, warts and all.
Don't worry, nobody has warts in this story.
So one morning, as people do, Juffin and I decided to spend some 'quality' time together. You know what I'm talking about.... Q U A L I T Y time *wink wink nudge nudge*.
The advantage of having Netflix is Thomas the Tank Engine. And Dinotrux. And a variety of animated films. On tap. At any time.
So like all good horny parents we put the TV on, gave the Mushroom some food and went back to bed.
Now I'm not sure why, but we didn't close the door.
Nor did we hear the toddler approaching.
Only when I heard a voice asking loudly 'WHAT YOU DOING?' did we realise that we'd been busted.
Oh the humiliation.
I don't think I've seen Juffin move so fast. He was shovelling sheets and blankets on top of me and literally leapt out of the bed, pulling his pants on as he went.
'WHAT YOU DOING DADDY? WHAT YOU DOING WITH MUMMY? WHAT YOU DOING?'
Juffin started ushering him down the hallway, face aflame, babbling about Thomas the Tank Engine or some rubbish whilst I lay in bed, covered in pillows and sheets, laughing hysterically.
'WHY MUMMY LAUGHING DADDY?' I hear from the other end of the house.
What else can one do?
I can only hope that we haven't scarred the child for life.
Poor Mushroom. No-one needs to see their parents doing it.
|Scarred for life...|