We’ve had a pretty good run so far. It was going so well. Everything seemed like it was in order. Everything carefully aligned and balanced. Running to perfection. I suppose, in hindsight, that it was just the calm before the storm. The silence was the only sound heralding the soon-to-be lunacy we could not imagine but would soon confront face to face. Now, after staring into the face of something lacking logic and having devious consequences, I am left shaking. I am shaking my head and I am shaking my hands. Mostly, however, I am shaking my finger. Actually, it’s more of a wag. It’s the kind of wag that says: “naughty, naughty… you’ll regret this.” Our son has started removing his own diaper.
And to think it all started in confusion. One day our son comes zipping past us without his diaper on. “Are you changing him?” I ask. “No.” comes the reply. “Why is he running around naked?” I ask. “What?” my wife asks. Laughter ensues as our son tries to hide from us and dodge our attempts at grabbing him and putting him back into his diaper. This must have looked similar to a new ranch hand trying to catch a chicken or something of the sort. We laughed again. Ha ha! What a funny thing! That is so out of the ordinary… but it wasn’t. Soon we started witnessing our naked son running about more often. Where, we wondered, did the diapers go? It turns out he was putting them in the right place (garbage) but often they were, how shall we say, less than used. Then we started catching him trying to take his diapers off. Grr… back to onesies for this kid. He hasn’t figured out snaps yet so that should keep his diaper fastened for a little while longer. In the meantime… we need to plot.