Mental Agreement

Walking into the house, my son runs my way butt naked.

Putting down my briefcase I catch him as he runs into my arms.

"Papa you're home," he says while giggling.

Giving him a bear hug and smacking his little bum softly, I kiss his forehead.

"Baby, why are you naked?" I ask and he jumps out of my arms.

Folding his hands behind his head he walks away while my husband walks into the room and looks mortified as our son says, "I wanted to see it move."

We look at each other and mentally agree never to mention this again.