Rather than having daycare, we watch our grandson Emery.  He's my buddy, almost 2 and he gives us a world of laughs, love and........No, I'm not old enough to have a grandson, it's Brenda's fault.

So tonight just 10 minutes before his mom arrived home, the bomb went off.  He loves having time in his room playing.  He decided to climb into his crib and watch one of his movies for awhile. I could hear him chattering in two year old jibberish.

Then it went silent, you know, the kind of silent that sends chills up your spine. I waited, hoping for some small noise to let me know everything was fine, but....nothing.  So I climbed the stairs, slowly, hoping the chattering noise would start, but still nothing. Not even the sound of breathing.

It's moments like this that define a person. I opened his door just enough to peek in, hoping to find a sweet little, toddler, sleeping sweetly. I know God has a strange sense of humor, because rather than finding a charming moment, I found a naked, terrorist.

In less than 4 minutes of silence, M had gone from a cooing, hallmark moment to a "you really didn't do that" special report.  Not only had he managed to get completely undressed, but he had managed to spread.....yes, all the way from his toes to his tummy, with both hands fully coated.

(To be continued)