Chaos would probably be the best word to describe parenting a 5 year old boy. Getting out of bed, brushing teeth, sitting still for dinner, and not destroying the house are just a few of the daily challenges faced by most parents. Lucky for me and my wife, my son has taken it to a new level and I am now convinced he has a exciting career ahead of him as a competitive nudist. How did I reach this conclusion? The answer can be found by stopping by the Beardface household any weekday just before bath time.
The whole process starts simple enough. My wife informs my son it is bath time.
“Mason, I am going to start your bath in 5 minutes.”
This is always met with some form of protest ranging from a simple groan to a cursing of her existence. You see, when you say “bath time” to a 5 year old boy, what they actually hear is “time to go to the backroom dungeon, dip you in acid, then roll in you dog turds and salt.” After 15 minutes of excuses and back and forth bargaining, he will reluctantly drop whichever one of the 5,000 toys he owns and trudge slowly with me back to his bedroom to get undressed. It is during this reenactment of the end of the movie Dead Man Walking that I start to hear subtle snickers and laughter, meaning the visualization of the impending naked rampage has begun, and it is time to baton down the hatches.
Now inside the room, the clothes removal begins. As I look up at his face, he has a grin bigger than the Chesure Cat, and both of us know what is about to happen. First off come the pants. Before they even are off both legs his face turns bright red in a vain attempt to hold back the laughter. He then quickly takes of his shirt and throws it over my face, creating the distraction needed to quickly remove his underpants. All I hear is what sounds like an escaping hyenia as he is off in full streak mode through the house. I then quickly take my seat on the couch to watch the festivites.
Out of the bathroom comes my wife and the chase is on! It is like watching someone try to coral a greased up pig at the county fair. My wife, slightly hunched with her arms out, as my son, now hysterical with laughter and shouting weird things about farts and the power of his butt, sprints all over the place like a shopper at Walmart on black Friday. After a short period of time, she gives up and heads back to the bathroom. My son is now free to pursue his favorite nudist activities…sitting on me and fake farting while he yells “barebutt fart” over and over, followed by finding things that he knows I touch (remotes, books, video game controllers) and rubbing them on his butt. I try not to laugh because it only encourages him, but I can’t stop because its hilarious. The rampage comes to an end when he pauses to perform some type of lambada like dance moves which allow my wife to grab him and get him to the tub. The rest of the bath continues normally but the smile lasts most of the night as he thinks back to another successful nude romp around the house.
Now I know what you must be thinking. Since this happens every time, you should be able to easily stop it. He is only 5. Under normal circumstances I would agree, But this is where I feel he has a great future as a professional nudist/streaker. The key to streaking is not getting caught to maximize your naked exposure and delay whatever event you are interrupting as long as possible. On this front, he already has some great natural ability. His route is planned in advance and he always seems to find a way to get into the open from the back of our house. Although he lacks great straight line speed, he is surprising quick is small spaces, has great footwork, and is very shifty. If there was a nudist style NFL combine, he stats would be off the charts. This will serve him well while security is trying to catch him and throw him out of a stadium or take him to jail. Just watching the way he avoids us in the house gives me flashes of his future brilliance in the naked arts. The Super Bowl, Wimbledon, the World Series…the sky’s the limit really. So while other families fulfill their dream of watching their child score the winning touchdown, sing in a famous choir, or become a exceptional musician, my wife and I can take solace in the fact that one day we will be sitting in the stands at some sporting event and someone will shout “check out the crazy naked dude, he is like greased lighting, they may never catch him!” We then nod knowing and quietly say to each other “that’s our boy….now lets go take some shots and get the bail money ready”
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