It's late, so bear with me for two seconds while I digress into two polar opposite topics. I think the older I get the more my memory is impaired, whew now that was profound. But what's funny is I can remember the most obscure movie lines from 1987 and the details of the bus ride where I almost got my ass kicked by Reagan Foley in the 7th grade or any classic memory sparked by a song lyric from WE ARE THE WORLD. Why is it, if I can still recall all of this very foundation building depth to my being, that I cannot remember I have a standing haircut appointment every other Friday at 4? I am fearful that Lindsey (she's my haircut guru) may fire me. I am taking to pinning notes to my shirt as a throw back to my fascination with 80's memories...wish me luck, and a reminder wouldn't hurt.
I am by nature not the most modest person when it comes to nudity...no snickering in the peanut gallery. I make no provisions for hiding the fact that I go to the bathroom, shower, change, yada yada...in front of my kids. So the older they get, the more I start to consider limits and boundaries. I have no idea what fascinates a child about a grown man taking a pee and recently I have started to feel a bit awkward. Me thinks I am in uncharted waters here. While having this discussion with friends one night (obviously with drinks) our good friend Sharon enlightened us with a pretty good clue as to the appropriate time for you to begin using discretion in your nakedness. A friend of hers, while wrapping her head in a towel and proceeding with the female beauty regimen at the vanity in the buff, was approached by her three year old son. He strolled into the bathroom, looked her up and down, and very matter of fact asked "Mom, can I pet your fur?" It was time.