As I sit at the desk and read my email, I feel a tickling sensation at my lower back, followed by the stifled giggle of a certain 6-year-old.
"What are you doing? Leave my underwear alone."
"Seriously--quit it. You're not giving your mother a wedgie."
"Oh, C'MON! Please?"
"NO. Now quit it, and go get your shoes on so we can leave."
(With a hug around my neck, whispering) "It'll be a wedgie of LOVE."