My Kids Are Making-Out In the Back Seat
“Let’s have a kissing war! Grayson, you kiss me and I’ll kiss you back!”
Those were the words which cut through the air and pierced my eardrums as we were driving in the car over the weekend.
I immediately looked over to the wife who was engrossed in her Christmas gifted Kindle.
Clueless as to the words that just filled the air she looked at me and said, “what? What are you looking at? Do I have a boogie hangin?”
Me: “The kids are making out in the backseat!!!”
Wife: “What?!!!”
In movie-like slow motion I see her turn to her left, burning me with a “why does everything have to do with sex with you” look which quickly turns to a “holy shit my daughter and son are about to make out” look.
Watching through the review mirror I see the same horror as her. The daughter is leaning into the brother with a smooch on her lips as the boy finds the nearest solid object to hold in-front of his face.
Being a born and raised North Carolina native, all I could imagine was trotting off with the wife 15 years from now to see our children and driving up to wobbly trailer with my son in nothing but overalls, holding a Budweiser and missing three-quarters of his teeth.
I pictured getting out of the car to hear the boy yell to his pregnant sister/wife, “go on now and feed baby number 5 fore I’s- a tell mamma and papa you’s-a-been smokin’ and drankin’ durin’ pregnancy agin.”
Wife: “Macy!!! No! We don’t do that!!”
Macy: “But I see you and daddy do it!”
The wife and I immediately looked at each other with a “when the hell has she ever seen us kiss? We haven’t done that nonsense since…well since New Year’s 1994” look.
Wife: “Baby, mommy and daddy aren’t brother and sister. We are adults and married. We are happy that you want to kiss Grayson, but you should only do it as a peck on his cheek. Not on the lips.”
Me: “Macy, boys are disgusting. School work and never going out with boys until your 26 years old is really the way to safely go about living your life.
“Now, your brother was brought into this world simply to provide protection against the gross boys who might try to hold your hand, caress your hair, or baby-jesus forbid…kiss you. You should not kiss Grayson, yet merely thank him when he beats-down a young lad who’s entered your ‘personal zone.’”
Grayson: “Mommy, is that true? Is that really why I’m on Earth?”
Wife: “No dear, your father’s an idiot and a freak-of-nature. You are with our family because we love you and wanted a beautiful young boy to share our lives with.”
Macy: “Mommy?! Can I really not kiss boys until I’m 26 years old?”
Wife: “Yes dear. Sorry, but those are the rules.”
When the kids weren’t looking the wife and I gave a quick fist-bump to each other. Now THAT’s good parenting!