12.13.2010

Paternal Supervision

I heard laughter coming from their room.   Laughter and squeals and giggles.  The laughter grew louder so I walked quietly to their door, hoping my appearance would not make them stop doing whatever it was that was causing such happiness. I smiled as I anticipated seeing a sweet moment between my three boys. I  peaked my head through the door.  And I found this.
I discovered my sweet, innocent baby was stuck ( I also discovered that the boys' dresser is in serious need of some scratch remover, the result of banging it with a stool as they retrieve belts from the top drawer in one of their many costume changes of the day).  My sweetie had been tethered to a drawer by the feet of his pajamas.  
And as he tried desperately to crawl away, the guilty parties stood by, admiring their handiwork. Some tried to look like an innocent bystander.
Others were so proud of their work, they danced and did a little finger snapping to celebrate.
Mama was not happy.  Especially since that lump you see under the covers was their Daddy.  He was snug and warm, watching television as our older boys anchored my baby to a dresser.  Paternal supervision at it's finest.

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