Friday, April 23, 2010

The Downfall of Deeds

For those of you who don't know who or what Deeds is, he's a character from an Adam Sandler movie. He's the butler who just randomly appears seemingly out of thin air. Scares the shit out of people. That, my friends, is my six year old.

He's been at this for a few months now. At first he didn't even realize his Deeds-like capabilities until he scared the crap out of me a few times. I am fun to scare because I react strongly. I usually attain a decent vertical and make a sound akin to gasping for my last breath. I sound like a sick dolphin. Anyway, he sort of caught on to his talent for this and from time to time has abused it but it's funny so I'm usually not all that upset once I am breathing normally again.

However, today, Deeds stealthiness bit him in the ass. I showered this morning (to be clear, I shower every morning) and then decided it's been some time since I weighed myself and since lately chocolate has been even dearer to my heart than usual, I decided to check the damage. Now I'm a girl who prefers to weigh in the buff, after I've peed, before I've eaten. So conditions were perfect for a solid weigh-in this morning.

Another key point to this story is we have a bathroom off our bedroom. I believe it's what's commonly referred to as an 'en suite'. So I mistakenly assumed I was safe to open my bathroom door, naked, to grab the scale which sits just outside the bathroom door. Well, I was safe. My son was not.

I opened the door, already bending over to get the scale and looked at my bed and into the terrified eyes of my six year old son. So let's just set the scene here. He's six. I'm 33 and have had four children. I'm not obese by any stretch but I do enjoy the chocolate, vodka, carbs and have recently lapsed in my gym attendance. That being said, if I'm standing up, sucking in and completely still, it's okay. I was doing none of these things. Poor guy. Not only did he see his mom naked this morning; he saw her ugly naked.

I quickly retreated back into the bathroom and put on my robe and then came back out to get the scale. When I opened the door again his face was buried in a pillow. Probably to muffle the screams.

At present I'm sure he's probably trying to plan a trip to the store to buy himself a collar with the bell on it...and maybe an appointment with a therapist?

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