Guest blogger NorEastMom: We're OK, kids, Daddy just dropped the soap ...
I thought being walked in on while I was having sex by my children would be as bad as walking in on my parents as a kid. Thank God it wasn't.
My son caught us recently while we were trying to have what my husband and I refer to as "Spongebob Sex." Usually there is a need for this because you planned to have sex Friday night, then were too tired and had a low desire for it after the bottle of wine and bad Netflix movie (which always leads to the "who's in charge of maintaining our queue?" argument). Next morning, the kids are rolled up in blankets watching cartoons. Both of my children wouldn't flinch if a Molotov cocktail sailed thorough the living room window as long as their favorite show is on. So, we decide it's a perfect time for Spongebob Sex, also known as: Dora sex, or Pokemon sex (ouch).
So my husband and I jumped in the shower one morning, locked the door, which we never do otherwise, and began to do the shower thing. Shower sex is fun for us because we are both severely myopic and once our glasses are off, we both look about 15 years younger. Just don't ask either of us to read the shampoo instructions. Suddenly, right in the first few seconds of our mission, we hear, "Mom? Dad?" We didn't hear this voice from outside the door, though, or from downstairs. We heard our six-year-old son's voice from the other side of the shower curtain!
Our heads simultaneously flew out of opposite ends of the shower curtain. I imagine we must have looked like a wet two-headed parent monster. "Yeah, buddy? What's up? How's it going, how've you been? Having fun? How's Spongebob? Patrick?" If we talk fast enough, maybe he won't notice we're buck naked.
"Mom, Dad, that was so close! I saved you guys! You guys were LOCKED in here. So I took Dad's little screwdriver from the junk drawer and popped the handle on the door, just like you did when the baby was locked in! Aren't you glad I rescued you? I'm a rescue hero!"
"Yeah, buddy, really glad. Thanks." We didn't have the heart to tell him that the only thing he might have rescued us from was an unexpected screaming new sibling, because my husband forgot to grab a condom. Lesson to all: Don't let your sons watch MacGyver reruns if you want to get lucky.