Independence

So, when Andrew brought us a diaper last night, we should have looked into things more. It was a clean diaper, but was obviously one he has worn at some point. I think we assumed that he had found it somewhere, and since while moving the Rules Of Hygiene, Cleanliness and Order take a nose-dive, unfortunately it would be possible, even likely, for us to commit such an oversight. We might have left that somewhere.

It wasn't until about 30 seconds before our name was called at the restaurant that night, that we realized it was the diaper he was wearing.

And that we had brought our baby to a restaurant al fresco. There was nothing under those shorts to prevent all kinds of mayhem and havoc.

We were making plans to run to drug stores, smuggle in a diaper, try to fix this situation with the least amount of embarrassment possible. But, when our name was called, we looked at each other, shrugged and decided to risk it.

The plan? Order Andrew a lemonade. If there's an accident, well, then, "the lemonade spilled". We'd clean it up, but there would be something else, besides poor parenting, to blame.

So Dave and I nervously giggled through dinner. Ate a quick meal, and got off scott-free.

We even made it home.

We now chalk it up to Andrew celebrating Independence. We think he might have been saying, "Here Mom and Dad. I don't need this anymore. I'm much more independent than I used to be."

Which may be the case. But he still has not overcome potty-fear. And that is a crucial step before we can really say good bye to diapers.

Nice try, though, Andrew.
Happy Independence Day.