It Strikes Again

I was in the shower, all soaped up, when I heard my youngest son screaming, followed by a thud and then silence. At this point, as I hurriedly washed the suds from my hair and body while simultaneously screaming, “What’s wrong?! Are you okay?! What happened?!” I was trying to decide whether I should be relieved or concerned that the screaming and crying had stopped.

When I got out of the shower, I found my sons playing nicely (and calmly) on the couch. I asked what had happened.

“I zipped my penis up in my pajamas. Again.” said my 4-year-old.

“What was the thud?” I asked.

“That was me getting down from my bed to run and check on him,” replied my 8-year-old. “I told him that happened to me before, too. I said he should hold his hand behind it. And wear underwear.”

Sage advice from one brother to another, I suppose. At least he’d stopped screaming. And yes, he did say, “again.” Just a week or so ago, he’d done the same thing. Same circumstances – no undies. Apparently, free balling it at night is worth the risk.

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