Max's recent outbreak of mischief has many symptoms, just a few of which have been outlined in the last few posts. Perhaps the most distressing, however, is his new and improved diaper aversion. He has been against diaper changes for awhile now (again, as discussed in prior posts), but has always been cheerfully indifferent to the diaper itself, once it was securely on his booty and the fuss of changing was over. Sadly, however (for us and our new apartment carpeting), those days are now but a fond dream. Max's new diaper sabotage technique is two-pronged. First, he takes all the diapers out of the diaper bag and scatters them. His hope is that enough diapers will be lost or damaged that future diaper changes become impossible.
Since phase one has yet to yield any noticeable results, Max wisely created a plan B. When I initially was having trouble with Max's attitude towards changing, I started using a half-nelson style wrestling move to pin Max into submission while changing him, a technique taught to me by Justin Lindsay, Julia's dad. Unfortunately, Max has learned that there is a moment when I have removed the old diaper, wiped the parts that need wiping, and am reaching for the new diaper, when my guard is down and my focus is off a bit. During this moment, he will slither out from under my restraining leg and make a break for it, naked bum and other unmentionables waving merrily in the wind. Today he climbed onto his car al fresco, stood up on it, and (I swear) deliberately mooned me. The worst and most disturbing thing about this scene was that the car, which talks, chose that moment to say cheerily, "Driving is fun!" Ian has already accused that car of being slightly pornographic more than once, and God knows I try never to encourage his theories, but I will never look at that car the same way again.