Suspending Standards

I am not a fan of nudity. For myself or my children. Although I readily admit to being a prude, the main reason I don't like my kids running around sans clothing is mostly for reasons of protection. They're boys, you know? Their tender bits are just . . . there. Exposed. It seems prudent to keep them covered to avoid a particularly unfortunately placed splinter or cut.

However.

Poor Charlie seems to be having some difficulty with our heat lately. He's been getting heat rash on his neck and shoulders, and some yucky areas under his diaper. So yesterday, after we all went swimming in the lake, A. stripped him down and put him on the grass to air out. But of course, he doesn't stay in one spot anymore, so he started crawling around and getting covered in grass and dirt. Then I gave him a watermelon rind to chew on, which of course dripped watermelon juice all over, providing a nice sticky layer for the adherence of more dirt and nastiness.

Naked, filthy baby? Not so appealing.

I gave Charlie a very thorough bath before bed, at which point Cubby decided he wanted a bath too. So he got in the bath and commenced his very elaborate scenarios with Bulstrode the Boat and his adventures in Tubland. Or whatever he does in there. I don't really know, because he's old enough that I can leave the bathroom and just keep him in earshot while I do other things. Like the dishes. Which is what I did last night.

After awhile, I heard him get out of the bath and go into the living room. When I went to check on him, he was busily spreading his towel over the couch to make a towel bed. Right. Whatever.

He was, of course, bare of all clothing. But I was in the middle of the dishes and didn't want to go upstairs and get his clothes and battle him into them. So I left him to it and went back to my dishes. After a bit, he came into the kitchen and helped himself to the cherries that were sitting on the counter. Still naked.

Naked three-year-old in the kitchen eating cherries? Not quite as unappealing as a naked, filthy baby, I suppose. At least he was clean.

Ah, parenthood. Such a good destroyer of absolutisms.