{from this funny dude. Disclaimer: his website has a tendency to be terribly naughty}

Don't get me wrong, I consider myself a spiritual person. 

And while I don't have any Mormon pals I do have Jehovah's Witnesses friends (well, OK, one,) and as long as I don't ask her children to my children's birthday parties or talk too much about Christmas we're really all good. 

So I'm very polite to men in pressed shirts and ties who knock on my door on Saturday mornings. Particularly as I like to model polite behaviour for my children and on this Saturday morning in particular, last Saturday, the kids opened the door in birthday mode expecting friends and gifts. 

A solo JW this time. A man, mid 60s. 

The kids invited him in of course, at the same time I was trying to close the wire screen door.

I was still in my jarmies, Adam had insisted on me answering the door as he was in a robe. My (short) robe. A marvellous way for me to admire his legs but not really for public display.

The kids talked a mile a minute, explaining it was Tilly's birthday, did he have a gift for her?

The man tried very hard to give Tilly a 'tract' which I politely refused (I accepted once and had repeat visits for a month until I told them yes I had read it and no I didn't wish to discuss it further with them. Deep breath.)

The conversation went on and on, the man trying to talk to me about Jesus, the kids trying to tell him about the party, Adam emitting amused giggles from the next room.

Finally, and I'll never know why, Henry dropped his pants. His pyjama pants, with nothing underneath.

Utterly horrified at the inappropriateness I leapt to yank them back up, not as fast as poor JW man spun away and bolted to my front gate, blurting over his shoulder for us to have a nice day but he really must be going.

We'll find our spirituality in other ways, shall we Henry?

Good plan.

xxx