Inappropriate Husbands

The phone rang right as Natalie was going through her thirteenth fit of the day. This time she was upset because I wouldn’t let her take the DVDs out of the cabinet. I’m sorry, but the last time she did that it looked like the entire DVD section of Wal-Mart had thrown up in my living room. Plus she totally ripped off my Sex and the City covers and that was just not cool. What does she have against Sarah Jessica Parker?

Tommy was whining because I told him that he had to wear suntan lotion before he went outside. This gravely insulted him and he was in the middle of listing the reasons why he didn’t need the lotion when I picked up the phone.

“Number SIX! It smells weird!” Tommy shrieked as I said hello into the receiver.

“What are you wearing?” came a husky voice.

Excuse me?

I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it as though it were a giant booger. Ew, did someone mistake my number for a sex hotline?

“Who is this?” I said warily.

“Your husband. What are you wearing?”

Oh for---seriously? In the middle of the DAY?

“Black sweats and a yellow t-shirt,” I said in a deadpan voice right as Tommy was screaming, “Reason EIGHT! I don’t LIKE lotion!”

“I bet you look hot,” Tom said in a seductive voice.

I cradled the phone against my shoulder. “Yeah. I’m sweating like a pig.”

Tom groaned. “Why won’t you talk sexy with me?”

Oh great. Tom started with the whining. I hate when he whines.

“Tom. I’m surrounded by children. It’s not an appropriate time,” I reminded him.

“No time is an appropriate time,” Tom grumbled.

Sorry. During the day I’m busy wrangling children. By the time they’re in bed I’m too exhausted to form an erotic sentence.

“I’ll call you later,” Tom said, all dejected.

Oh boo hoo. I hung up and stuck the phone in my pocket. I managed to get suntan lotion on Tommy, even though he was on reason fifteen why he didn’t like the stuff. (“Reason fifteen! It feels SLIMY!”)

We all headed outside and I thought I could sit for a few minutes while the kids ran out their energy. But no. Right before my butt hit the pavement, Natalie wanted me to play with her. She stuck a hat on my head and pulled on my arm and pointed to the area where she wanted me to stand.

“Actually, Mommy just wants to sit,” I said and started to head back to my sitting spot.

“PLAY! PLAY! PLAY!” Natalie started jumping up and down in horror.

Good gracious. I thought she’d pass out from the excitement and I was in no mood to wait around at the ER so I agreed to play. I sort of stood there while Natalie handed me a bag and started putting a bunch of stuff into it.

I’m not exactly sure what this game was.

My bag was nearly filled to capacity when the phone rang. I dug it out of my pocket.

“Hello?” I said. The bag straps were starting to dig into my arm from all the weight. Ouch.

“Do you know what I’m doing now?” came the familiar husky voice.

Oh Lord. Here we go again.

“Are you watching TV?” I wondered hopefully. Please be watching the TV.

“I’m laying on the bed. Naked.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m envious. What I would give to lay on the bed naked. But one of the kids would probably walk in on me and then I’ll have to answer questions such as why I have boobies, what’s wrong with them and didn’t I know I could only be naked in private? To which I’d reply that I WAS trying to be private but apparently a shut door means come on in to our children,” I said dryly.

Tom sighed. “Fine. Forget it,” he grumbled.

“Tom. You know I love you. But I’m tired. I get that your class is exhausting but you get a break when it’s over. You get a break over the weekend. I rarely get a break. Even during the night I’m still on the clock. Your daughter thinks two AM is a fantastic time to wake and have a party. So excuse me if I can’t talk nasty to you,” I ranted as Natalie tried to stuff a car in the overfilled bag.

“I just miss you,” Tom said in a tiny voice.

Aw. Poor guy. All he wants is to hear my voice and---

“Are you wearing panties?” Tom continued hopefully.

He’s deaf. My husband is deaf.

“Yes. Disgusting panties with holes. Look Tom, I’m not doing this right now. Unless you want Tommy to go to school tomorrow and start talking about fellatio with the kids, you’ll stop this talk right now,” I hissed. I lowered my voice so the kids wouldn’t hear fellatio. I could just see Tommy heading off to school and saying during playtime, “I’m going to make myself a pie with fellatio,” because he’ll assume it’s food or something and then I’ll get a phone call from the teacher and be lectured on how to be appropriate.

At that moment there was a clap of thunder. We’re having a string of storms this week. Natalie has decided that thunder terrifies her so when this happened she let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“What’s going on over there?” Tom asked while his kid carried on as though someone had told her that her favorite character Brobee was dead.

“That would be your daughter,” I explained, setting the full bag down and scooping Natalie up. “She’s afraid of thunderstorms.”

“See Mommy? It’s going to rain. I put on lotion for NOTHING!” Tommy wailed.

“Since when is Natalie afraid of thunderstorms?” Tom asked as I shuffled the kids back inside.

“INSIDE IS BORING!” Tommy shouted as I closed the front door.

“Since...I don’t know, the last time we had a storm,” I replied, attempting to set Natalie down. But she had a death grip around my neck and refused to let go.

Tom gave a wistful sigh. “I’m missing so much.”

“You’ll see them soon,” I said in a strangled voice because Natalie was starting to cut off my air supply. I tried to get her to loosen her grip but it was difficult while trying to balance the phone against my ear.

Tom mistook my strangled voice for crying because he said, “Awww, I miss you too. Don’t cry.”

I didn’t bother to correct him. I just let him act like he was comforting me because that distracted him from inquiring about my undergarments again.