During today’s afternoon nap you woke up wailing and I hurried upstairs to see what was the matter. Usually you just need a sip of water or have managed to misplace Mimi, Seahorse, or your blankie, so even before I was through the door I was into the familiar routine of soothing, calmly asking what was wrong and which of those you might need.
Turns out, you were standing in the middle of the crib with two exposed chicken legs below your straggly pajama top, and with a look of earnest worry told me “PANTS.” So… where are your pants? Not just pulled down but completely absent from the crib. After some searching I found them stuffed down along the wall, not far enough to actually fall to the floor but just enough to be invisible at crib level. I have to say, bonus points for not only getting them off but managing to squirrel them away like that before calling out. I was sufficiently impressed, and even after rectifying the pants situation was happy to offer a drink and blankie fix on the house.
At least you’ve never taken off your diaper by yourself yet. Now if we can work on putting pants on by yourself that would be sweet.