I just went to pick up J. at kindergarten (something I do daily) and after sitting in the kid drive thru waiting behind super fancy Texan SUVs( occupied by copious women who for some reason find it totally necessary to have semi-private-over-the-chain-link-fence conversations with their child’s teacher at any given opportunity) for what seemed like an eternity (during which I rocked out HARD to what I think was Air Supply due to a DayQuil induced coma), they finally released our kid into the wild. I opened the rear passenger door for J., and before he even got into the car, he said, “Auntie, I need to tell you something.” I leaned down and J. sweetly whispered into my ear, “I accidentally put my underwears (kids don’t understand proper plurality) on backwards.” I of course, busted out laughing, told him he ruled, and loaded him up. When he was finally securely belted in, I told him that it was okay because his Grandma (the Rev) does the same thing all the time, and that he’d probably just inherited the tendency. He replied (in a very accurate Rev voice), “Oh Shucky Dern, I’ve put my underwears on backwards AGAIN.” I laughed so hard I nearly pooped myself. I was so proud. I provided a supportive and loving environment by replying (also in Rev tones), “Oh JESUS LOVER OF MY SOUL, I’ve put my underwear on backward AGAIN!!” We riffed on various and sundry versions of this dialogue the whole way home, ending with the decision that J. was in possession of a fine “front butt” today. I did, however, kinda feel sorry for him when I noticed that as he was walking to the front door, he was using both hands to keep the underwear out of the crack of his ass. I imagine that the playground was not super fun for him today. We have remedied his condition. At least he didn’t get stuck.