Now picture this. The chair is positioned so that by looking up I can see the edge of our loft. The loft edge is protected by wrought iron railings and looks over into the kitchen area as well as my favorite chair.
Daniel (3) and John (18 months) are up in the loft. They are lying on grandma and grandpas bed watching Barney or some such communistic, socialistic, anti-Christian (that's what people aways said about the stuff my kids watched....My Little Pony, The Smurfs....Lord, what's wrong with us?) fare on our TV.
I looked up to notice that John was standing by the railing. His sweet little cherubic face pressed up against the wrought iron. Smiling. Then I noticed that he had taken off his diaper. He's not potty trained yet. And then I started yelling. "HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! as I realized that without his diaper, going commando, he had no inhibitions. He was free and there was a strange warm, liquid sensation hitting my arm.
That's right. He was expressing, either his individuality or his disdain for his grandpa. It was a perfect arch out of the loft and into the kitchen via my favorite chair. I have new appreciation for the phrase, "The Golden Arches."