Nekked Brown Leprechaun

...it rained the other evening.  As the mists switched to pummeling drops and returned to misty sprays, the winds churned up the sand and salt left everywhere here in post-snowpocalypse mid-East Coast.  It was quite a sight.  And the sounds?  Whirring air, gentle pattering rain, and groaning shifting of the house's siding.  I was content and warm inside and happy that this time Mama Nature decided to send the white blankets north.

There was no rainbow left in my after-the-rain-subsides world, but an impish little leprechaun arrived.  He came clad in a onesie and diaper, but Chi served him juice and the onesie was removed for stain-combating intervention.  Leprechauns must value their freedom, and diapers, it seems, are inhibitors.  So, this leprechaun removed his... suddenly there was a diaper on the floor, but leprechaun was missing.  When I called him - "Ya?" I said - a faint chuckle was the only reply.  Were my hair not dripping wet from a fresh conditioning (and frizzing up to beyond-repair curly), I might have hastily searched out the leprechaun.  He must have known I was mid-affair with the hair dryer, so he came right to me in the bathroom.  I re-diapered him and gently chastised him for removing the first one.  Then I resumed my blow drying efforts.  Leprechaun chuckled again, droned a bit in his pterodactyl speak and pointed at his diaper.  On the floor.  Not on the butt.  And then a tinkling noise accompanied by a small puddle appeared on the diaper and the floor.  Another chuckle.

He left then - no doubt to grab his pot o'gold - but returned empty handed.  Well... actually, he was doing what I am told toddler boys do... so his hand was, ummm, occupied.  The diaper was still on this time, but it was pulled down in the front and nothing would be safe from a second trickle.  I paused my hair rescue efforts to adjust the diapered-leprechaun, but was thwarted.  Suddenly little leprechaun was taunting me with a game of peek-a-boo chase.  Great... no gold, no  rainbow , and you still expect me to be enticed into a chase?

I caught him (never hide between the toilet and the wall - - there is no escape from there).  Gave the little leprechaun a new diaper (and wondered how on earth he had wet the second one so quickly).  And I returned attention back to the afro puff.  Leprechaun stayed in the toilet closet to my left and was quiet.  Too quiet, except for a few grunts.  In my peripherals I saw the imp yanking down his diaper and then climbing onto and straddling the commode.  No tinkle.  Toilet paper pulled. And pulled.  And pulled. Mommy salvages what isn't in the toilet.  Leprechaun yanks on the flusher (thanks for teaching him how to do that, Daddy M). Leprechaun runs to the bed - nekked, happy.

Mommy gets a clean onesie and diaper.  Tackle the chuckling, grinning leprechaun. Seal diaper, cover from access with onesie. Leprechaun - still without pot o'gold - is thwarted from further streaking.

And the next morning?  Mommy changes leprechaun's diaper in his sleep.  She seals the diaper, turns to grab pants and shirt, and turns around to see sleeping leprechaun unfastening one side of the diaper and resting his hand inside.

So this is what raising boys is like?