I love naked babies, especially little baby butts. Little Gun-Gun has the cutest round cheekies (not the ones associated with his cherubic smile) and I love when he's fresh out of bath, running from me like I have the plague in an attempt to avoid a diaper. Tonight was no different, other than he was not fresh out of a bath and he was supposed to have the diaper still on, pending our nightly fight with pajamas.

As he streaked through my room yelling, "Moooommmmmmyyyyyy!!!", I immediately noticed that he was naked. Completely naked. Hubby looked at me and I looked back at him in a silent fight over who was going to track down the missing diaper and prevent our little fire hydrant from watering the furniture. Gun-Gun continued his streak through our room and into the bathroom where he promptly announced that he "poofed" and needed to "brush eeth!" Hmmm...poofed? He farted? Normally a "poof" was a "fart" in Gun-Gun language, so I didn't worry too much. Thanks for announcing it Gun-Gun, and thanks for doing it outside of mommy and daddy's room. Hubby and I continued to try and ignore his nakedness so that we could finish our grown-up talk, thinking that time was on our side.

Shortly thereafter, I heard a squeal of disdain and saw C-dub flying down the hallway, pinching his nose in one hand and a dirty diaper hanging precariously in the other. C-dub ran from one end of our room to the other, frantically looking for a place to dispose of his hazardous waste. He was screaming, hubby was yelling and Gun-Gun was hiding. I had just taken a phone call so I shrugged my shoulders at hubby, giving him the go ahead to handle the situation. Gun-Gun took this as a sign of weakness and quickly ran out of our room and into C-dub's room, where he promptly smushed his "raisinettes" further into the carpeting. I knew that hubby needed back-up, so I ended my conversation and caught up with the "poof" offender. I calmed hubby down, all the while holding Gun-Gun back with one hand, preventing him from further smearing or should I say smudging. I then gave him his fourth bath of the day as he had decided to also fingerprint his belly with his homemade paint.

Thinking that we had located all of the offending spots, we left for the evening and later returned, only to put the kiddos to bed. I put on my sweats and took off my shoes and socks, to fully relax and get ready for bed. The kids were asleep and Gun-Gun once again smelled good. As I walked down the hallway, I suddenly felt a sick squishiness between my toes. I looked down only to realize that we had not, in fact, located all the offending raisinettes, and that my foot had quickly become victim to Gun-Gun's "poof." On my hands and knees, I found a few more spots of joy that I scrubbed and cleaned. It figures that Gun-Gun would wait to spoil the carpet only after I had just shampooed the rugs two weeks ago...Murphy's Law sucks.

I still love baby butts *BUT* next time, there will be a mandatory cheekie inspection prior to any nakedness entry into the confines of my bedroom.