I will try to be as delicate as possible when I ask you this question. But, ahem, have you ever been...you know, interrupted? Now, I don't mean in the bathroom (who hasn't been interrupted during showers, baths, and other bathroom-type business?). I don't mean while on the phone with a friend or while writing your latest post to your blog. I mean, you know, during a moment with your husband? A very private sort of moment?
I ask you this today because I am precisely the kind of wife/mom who worries about what the children are doing and where they are doing it during intimate moments. I would be in utter shock, and I'd just absolutely just want to sink through the floor if we were ever "discovered".
Today, in preparation for my daughter's birthday, and to celebrate the fact that it was Saturday and my husband and I didn't actually have to be installing floors or painting walls (that's a story for another day, my friend), our sweet children were downstairs making birthday hats, signs and, no doubt, scarfing down a little pre-breakfast sugar. My husband and I were rubbing the sleep from our eyes and chatting sleepily about what we were going to do for the birthday.
The kiddos came up to visit and then trotted back downstairs to finish their preparations. Klop, klop, klop. Pad, pad, pad. Plop, plop, plop. Boy, our stairs are loud.
Around then, my husband, famous for the line, "Got a minute?" snuggled a little closer and tried to start a little something. We shut the door, but alas, no lock on this particular door. Shhhhhh. Listen....The monitor's on, right? Check. A couple of minutes later....shhhhhhh, wait....they could come in...
"We'd hear 'em," he said, reminding me of how loud our stairs are and how easily we heard them as they came up the first time. Okay, he's right. But, shhhhh. We've gotta' listen. I need more blanket.....shhhhh
Three or four minutes later, I heard, "You want a cookie?!!!" And this is what I saw....
TWO FEET FROM MY FACE!
No plop, plop, plop. No pad, pad, pad. No klop, klop, klop. No door opening noisily, no, "Hey, Mom..." Just silence until she was right there. Two feet from my face. Offering us our share of her pink, frosted cookie. Darling girl. My face literally burned, and I was suddenly spinning in an ocean of, "OH MY GOSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
However, the sweet girl didn't seem to notice my blushing face or the fact that nothing that I said was making sense. She continued to show us how lovely the cookie was and to tell the story of how she got it. Then she proceeded to show us the red, shiny, plastic ring that came off of one of her Valentines. It was, indeed, lovely. A truly magnificent piece of jewelry that I studied fastidiously as I secretly tried to figure out what I could say to make her LEAVE THE ROOM!
Now, I think that she thought that we were playing. Or snuggling. I mean, lots of covers were involved. And, thank goodness, after about five minutes of brilliant conversation, she did think of something else that she needed to do to prepare for the big day. And as the blood drained from my face, I had to thank God for sheets and blankets and pillows....and unsuspecting little girls.
Okay, now let me know your story (please tell me that you have one, too!).