Now, I have no privacy in my home. None. I have come to accept that. The boys come in and out all the time. I figure at least they have grounded sense of what real women look like.
As I was washing my face and brushing my teeth, Ethan was trying to talk to his dad who was watering his garden below. The window was closed, so I opened it for him.
Me: Paaaaullll! Look uuuuupp! There's a little monkey I found who wants to talk to you!
Paul: Hi Ethan!
Ethan: Paaaullll! Look up! There's a naked mommy up here!
Me: Ethan. (sigh) What are you doing?
Ethan: Paaauuulllll! She doesn't have her pants ooonnnnn!
He gives me the most devilish grin then turns to the window again.
Ethan: Paaaauuullll! She doesn't have her bra onnnnn!
Me: ETHAN! Knock it off. Why don't you leave so mommy can get dressed in peace.
Ethan: Oh! She has her bra on now Paul. But she doesn't have a shirt on.
Ethan: Oh! She has her shirt on now.
I walk to the window and yell down.
Me: Now you have had your play-by-play of your wife getting dressed.
Paul: Actually the entire neighborhood got a play-by-play.