Duck, Meet Bellybutton

Sam has entered his nudist phase. It started with his footie pajamas. As soon as he figured out how to work a zipper, he was wriggling out of his jammies as fast as I could put them on him. Now he his shrugging out of shirts and stepping out of pants. I must put his clothes back on him 20 times a day.

Two days ago, Grandma Colleen came over with a present for Sam. (Thankfully, he was dressed at the time.) His eyes just about popped out of his head when he saw it - an enormous stuffed duck! It is bigger than Sam! It is very cute. Sam loved it and insisted on sleeping with it.

That night, I heard Sam making noise at 2 in the morning. I ignored him for a while, hoping he would go back to sleep on his own. After a few minutes it was obvious he wasn't going to stop.

Still half-asleep, I dragged myself out of bed and walked down the hall. I walked into Sam's room and got the shock of my life.

Sam, stripped to his diaper, was astride his duck, riding it like a horse. I have been jolted awake in many horrible ways, but none were as immediate as this. The room seemed like it was filled with elbows and knees and synthetic yellow fur.

Raising boys is not for the faint of heart.