I think we have reached the point where I can no longer get changed in front of E. It’s laundry day, um week, in our house and you know what that means. All “modest” underwear needs washed and I am left with some cheeky {no pun intended} thongs.

While getting dressed yesterday, I had the following, lovely conversation with my three year old.

E: “Mom. Mom. Mommy, where’s your underwears?”

Me: “What?”

E: “Your underwears. Where are they?”

Me: “I have them on. What are you talking about? Go play in your room.”

E: “But Mom. Why are theys broken?”

Me: “E, go play in your room.”

E: “Your underwears are broken, Mom. You need new ones.”

Head meet desk.

I’m going to have to start locking my bedroom door!

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