Today I talk about the sport of having sex when you have children in the house.
I also relive July 1972 when the Stones came to town. I wasn't allowed out because of the hippies.
Most people talk about the oldest child having very strict parents, the youngest having it too easy (and getting spoiled) and of course the middle child getting lost in the shuffle. To me none of these apply. The child that has it worst is the child whose bedroom is next to Mom and Dad's.
Maybe I'm weird, but when I walk into a room with naked people I typically look down, say “I'm sorry” and leave immediately. I thought this was the standard response for most people. But then again, if you had something very important you might stay to make sure you made your point.