Awkward Mom vs. Door to Door Activists

Living in a house has so many benefits; tons of room, a giant yard, and way more ways to be awkward.

In our apartment we had very few door to door encounters of any kind. When someone has to scale the steepest stoop in creation, be granted entrance via a buzzer, and climb 3 flights of stairs just to sell you a vacuum, tell you about Jesus, or get some Halloween candy, they tend to wish you the best from the curb and move on to greener pastures. Well, we aren't in an apartment anymore; hello door to door activists!

We have had 2 in the 3 weeks since our move. The first one was an impossibly earnest young man who wanted me to sign his petition against junk food for children. Something about high fructose corn syrup, modifying the farm bill, and childhood obesity; I wasn't really listening. I was distracted by the fact that, as he was talking to me on one side of the screen door, the children were eating Skittles on the other. My frantic motions to Super Preschooler to throw the candy under the couch were misinterpreted as demands that he share with this nice young man, and while I am pleased that he is generous, sometimes I kinda wish he had telepathy instead. Needless to say, I signed whatever this young man wanted me to sign, wrote him a check, and might have promised him my next baby for all I know. I was kinda in a panic. Don't really want it to get out that my children eat Skittles at 4 in the afternoon while watching "You Too Can Build a Monster Truck." They might kick us out of Ann Arbor.

Well, I think this guy passed the word that I am an easy touch because less than a week later, a young woman shows up. Again, impossibly earnest and ridiculously young. She is asking for me to sign something about clean water. No Skittles this time, but let me lay the scene:

It is 6 in the evening. It is 101 degrees and our ceiling fan is broken. I am not making dinner. There are some grapes on the coffee table that may have been there since 10am; good enough. Awkward Dad is working on something in the office, Super Baby is in there with him. Super Preschooler is the only sensible one, napping in the air conditioned bedroom. I was getting Super Toddler in the bath when I am summoned to the door to talk about clean water. I have no recollection about my clothes, but I can say with some degree of certainty that they are stained and/or wet.

She starts telling me about her cause. She has gotten to coal's impact on the land, when I hear Awkward Dad emerging from the office. Now, you all know that Awkward Dad is not a fan of pants when he can get away with it. It is 6 at night and over 100 degrees; I think we all know how he is dressed (or not) and I am sorry for making you picture it. I bellow to him that I am at the door. He doesn't hear me. I yell for him to stay in the office. He ignores me and comes dangerously close. I turn and shoo him back up the stairs that are just out of this impressionable girl's sight. He grunts at me and hands me Super Baby, who immediately grabs my hair. I turn back to hear about rivers, while wrestling my hair back from the wiggling demon in my arms. Ah, crisis averted. Right...

She is well into her spiel and I am debating how small a donation I can give her and still alleviate my guilt about "the human impact on Michigan's great waterways" when I see her gaze shift to my left. Her eyes widen and she falters a little over her description of advancing "upsteam" solutions. I assume she is looking at the grape buffet, so I shrug it off. I mean, it isn't like they are Skittles or something. Plus, Super Baby has grabbed another handful of hair that I am desperately trying to keep in my head and out of her mouth; I have no great desire to look like Lex Luthor. Activist Girl continues on about the waterways for a spell, and then she completely loses focus and starts to sport a fairly embarrassed smile. About this time, a soft giggle emerges from my lower left. I do some quick math. Now, who isn't accounted for? Sleeping Super P. is in the bedroom. Pantless Awkward Dad is in the office. Scalping Super Baby is in my arms. Super Cat is trying to claw his way through the screen door, so that leaves Bathing Super Toddler... on my left.

I slowly turn and gaze down. It takes me a moment to completely take in his full glory. He is stark naked, hair puffed up in full-on David Bowie mode. His feet are firmly planted in 2 little puddles of his own making and his hands are posed just so on his hips. Hips that he is whirling in the most lascivious imitation of Elvis that I have ever seen, while he grins and stares right into Activist Girl's eyes. I swear that he winks right before he announces, in a voice as proud as it is loud, "Naked Penis!"

We are all hoping that Awkward Mom's check to the Clean Water Foundation clears before Activist Girl thinks it might be a good idea to call DCFS. Fingers crossed! Stay cool, Readers. Heat can do funny things to people....

Just your friendly neighborhood streaker.