The new friend

So, Ben brought home a friend after school yesterday.  They've been pals for a while, but they've never had a play date...until yesterday.  I'm friendly with the mom, we run in a lot of the same circles and enjoy each other's company, should we find each other at the same event.  But, to emphasize---we don't know each other very well. As in, I haven't allowed her to see the inner workings of my shameful household, yet.  I usually keep that under wraps until we've been friends for a few years.  Then I bring out the big guns.

OK, so I pick the boys up from school.  I'm really laying the cheese on thick, as to create the illusion that I am a really, really nice mom.  "Well, hi there, Max!!!  We are so glad you could come home with us today!!  I stopped and got you guys donuts, hope you like sugary treats"!!!!!!  So, the big boys get in the car and Gabe is waiting patiently in the backseat.  This is Gabe: "Hi Max.  Are you Ben's friend? Do you like me? Max? Max? Max? Max, Max, can you hear me? Max, do you have Wii sports resort? What's your favorite game? Do you want a donut when we get home? Do you like donuts, Max? I looooove donuts?" This line of questioning will go on for hours if I don't put a stop to it.  So, I break his spirit and tell him to put a sock in it. 

We get home and the play date seems to be going well enough.  They're old enough where they don't need my constant supervision.  I let them huff paint or whatever 8 year olds do in their spare time.  Finally, a short while before the parents are supposed to pick Max up, Max and I are on the couch while Ben & Gabe are standing in front of us trying to "out do" each other's disgustingness.  Here's what that sounded like. 

Gabe: Mom, I see your booooobies!!!
Ben: Mom, truth or dare?
Me: Truth.
Ben: Has dad ever seen you naked?
(I'm pinching the bridge of my nose, horrified and Max is about 14 shades of red).
Me: You guys, stop being so gross, max is never going to want to come over again.
(Max is looking longingly toward the front door, wishing that his parents would hurry)
Gabe: Max, do you like my mom's butt? Nice butt, mom.
Me: Oh. My. Gosh. Knock it off you guys, you're acting like we've never had another human in our house before today.
Ben: Max, do you want me to sing Lady Gaga for you.  Watch this. "I'm your biggest fan, Papa Papa Paparazzi...." (and Ben begins to sing seductively to Max.  We're all uncomfortable at this point).

Ok, I am mortified and I'm imagining that my children will be taken away from me after word spreads that my kids are total pervs. 

The mom calls to say that her husband is on his way and I warn her as to what her son was exposed to and apologized profusely.  She laughs, but I know she was making mental notes to never let her children associate with mine again.

Dad shows up.  I'm kneeling in front of Max and through clenched teeth, I say, "we ate healthy snacks, worked on book reports and sang church songs, got it".  He laughs and bee lines out the door. 

Another friendship bites the dust, I think to myself.  I go about my merry way....    Jason comes home and I explain to him the entire story.  He looks amused, but I'm half wondering why he's starring at my chest the entire time I'm talking.  I'm done with my story and Jason says, "who came to get Max, his mom or dad"?  I said "his dad, why?" He nods toward my shirt. I look down. 

OK, side note.  My hair stylist came over earlier in the day to cut & color my hair.  In effort to make her laugh, I wore an old t-shirt that read, "MILF" on it.  Yep, you know where this is going.  I was STILL wearing it when dad came to get Max.  

So, what would you do if you came to pick up your child from someone's house, who you have NEVER met and the mom came to the door wearing a shirt that read, "MILF"? 

That's all.  Carry on.