Creep Show

Q: What's worse than having a creeper for a kid?
A: Having two creepers for kids

So we all know how weird, gross, sometimes dangerous, and always insane kids are. I'm sure everyone among us has witnessed their over-the-top bizarre behavior, from public nudity to brutally honest conversation starters (or...enders, as the case may be. Nothing produces a recording-scratching, cricket-chirping silence like a child asking why you have an ugly mole on your face or pointing out how you like to pick your nose in the car).

My kids are no exception.
They're weird. Like, lets put some sand down our diapers and then pelvic thrust for a while just for fun weird.
So it didn't really phase me when Isaac dubbed himself Chancellor of Body Parts and decided to take a survey of what was under every shirt and skirt he encountered.
I mean, I get it.
He's a curious little monkey who wants to know what's up in there and who am I to squelch his inquisitiveness just because it breaks a few social rules?

So he's out there, exploring the nethers of close friends and family. He's looking up my sister's dress and I'm all, Awwww, he thinks he's people, and she's all could you please come over here and handle this?!?! And yeah, sometimes I'm holding him while talking to the UPS guy, not even registering that he has his hand down my shirt and is sort of waving it around (Isaac, not the UPS guy. This isn't Desperate Housewives, people).

But on a humiliation scale of 1 to 10, where 1 is Isaac sitting in a corner being neither seen nor heard, and 10 is him whipping out his little boy weenie in public and urinating on the closest pair of shoes, taking a peek at the female anatomy barely registers a 3. So I've been channeling my inner hippie and letting him have a looksee here and there.

But then I walk in on this scene:

 

And I'm all, THIS IS NOT OKAY, because he's checking out his sister's goods and she's smiling to beat the band, and last time I checked it is not 1932 and we are not living in Southern Appalachia, and GAAAAHHHH COULD YOU GUYS TAKE THE WEIRD LEVEL DOWN ABOUT SIX NOTCHES?!?!?

 

(but not before I grabbed my phone to take a pic because...yanno...precious memories are being made)

 

So I finally decide that maybe we should have the talk in which I explain how it's not okay to look up people's dresses. And he replies by pointing out how Milo is eating and Daddy wears shoes, and I realized the futility of the situation.

And then I look at Avery, knowing there is nothing I can do to prevent her from taking delight in being "aired out" as it were, and I just sigh and save the photo to my hard drive in the folder entitled PHOTOS TO SHOW FUTURE BOYFRIENDS AND GIRLFRIENDS.

 

Because if I can't prevent this creep show from happening, I can at least use it to embarrass the CRAP out of them later.