We ordered pizza. Crappy Boy and Crappy Baby are in the tub.

Crappy Papa is in the bathroom with them to make sure they don’t drown each other or crash tidal waves across the floor.

The doorbell rings. Pizza delivery man is here.

I’m right near the door so I guess I’ll have to answer it. Normally I’d make Crappy Papa handle these things. You know, human interactions. But he is on tub duty. The kids are happily singing a song.

I open the door. The pizza delivery man hands me the pizza box. Up until now I had tuned out exactly what the kids were singing about. But now I notice:

I’ll ignore it, that is what I’ll do! Act like I can’t hear it. If I act like I can’t hear it then he won’t be able to hear it either.

I take the pizza box. Normally I’d walk five steps and set it on the table, but there is no time for that today. I toss it down onto the floor. Uh oh, that probably looked weird. Now he knows I’m rushing. He knows that I can hear “penis, penis” which means he can hear it too.

This makes me uncomfortable. We’ll have to do this quick!

The kids start yelling PENIS! over and over again.

Crappy Papa knows I’m handling pizza dealings. He shushes them. Which makes everything worse.

Kids can smell parental embarrassment likes dogs can smell fear.

And they will attack you for it.

They start screaming PENIS PENIS PENIS at the top of their lungs with shrieks of laughter in between.

The pizza delivery man hands me the receipt to sign. (PENIS! PENIS!)

He has one you know. A penis. This is why this is so awkward. (PENIS!)

Should I say something? Should I make a joke about the kids? Is ignoring it better? I can’t think of anything funny to say! (PENIS! PENIS!)

(PENIS! PENIS! PENIS!)

I look at the total and have to decide how much tip to give. (PENIS! PENIS! PENIS!)

I frantically sign it and hand it back and throw the pen at him. (PENIS! PENIS!)

Crappy Cat runs to the door and attempts to bolt outside but I stop him by stepping on him with my foot. (Gently. Relax cat freaks.)

I’m embarrassed and acting so odd that he must think I’m absolutely crazy. Which I am, but I don’t want other people to know.

Balancing on the cat, I manage to say thanks and shut the door.

I will now LOUDLY yell to the kids that the pizza is here and to get out of the tub. I’ll intentionally do it loud enough so that the pizza delivery man walking down our porch steps will hear it. This will reassure him that everything is totally normal in our house. That this whole thing has unfazed me. Just a regular mom with silly kids.

So I yell something. Just not the right thing.

Yes. I yelled that.

I will never answer the door again.