The Nudist

The scenario: It is late afternoon and I have fallen asleep on the couch reading, while the kids play on the computer or somewhere in the house. This is how most afternoons go, today with the addition on my part of a warning for the kids not to go outside without telling me first. We've been having a problem with that lately. Our kids have been escaping from the house without telling us, which would also give us the opportunity to make sure they are appropriately groomed and dressed-- so in the last week or two, I've had to search out some rather unpresentable children from wherever they're parading around the neighborhood. This includes Wyatt trying to escape while not wearing pants, and once wearing pants but no diaper (I found him at the neighbors showing them the full moon while playing on the slide).

The action:
Tom: "Nicole?... Nicole, do you realize your son is outside wearing nothing but a bathrobe, jumping around with his dingy hanging out for the world to see?"
Me (groggy): "Wha..." *growing dread* "... it's the little son, right?"
Tom: "Yes."
Me (still groggy): "Well, this can't be good."

Tom brought him in, and technically it was a zip-up sweatshirt and not a bathrobe, which allowed for maximum dingy exposure. "Yeah, I pulled up and there he was, on the front step, just wearing a sweatshirt and nothing else." I look at this kid, and not only is he naked under the sweatshirt, but he has a multicolored Crayola marker and sparkle lotion goatee. The girls were also running around outside, and I think the neighbors might have bought them ice cream from the ice cream truck. They always ask me, and I always say no. It's possible they finally asked someone else. Jacob was on the computer this whole time, oblivious to anything unusual happening.

I've had plenty of shameful moments, because after all, I'm a mom. (Plus I went to college.) But honestly, the realization that your kids have escaped again from your house in varying states of disarray, include one who is naked, asking the neighbors for food, while their mother is nowhere in sight... I wanted to crawl into a cave and just die. I looked at Tom and said, "Epic Mom Fail." Tom's pretty nice, so he just looked at me and said, "Yeah." I kind of think he had more thoughts than that, but like I said. He's pretty nice. Oh, but don't ask the kids, because they won't believe you.

Since Tom is not cool with my plan of pulling a "Von Trapp" and moving in the middle of the night, I sincerely hope for one of the following scenarios: a) no one saw Wyatt and I only have to bear the shame of the girls begging for food from the neighbors, b) this sort of thing happens in their neighborhood all the time c) They all have a Tumblr or Twitter feed titled "Things My Crazy American Neighbors Do".

The perp, minus the enthusiasm he had when he first left the house.