I thought he was saying bear or music, that his music frog had fallen down. But no. I walk in to see him standing at the foot of his crib next to the change table pointing to the floor. The full box of wipes sitting at the edge of the change table with a pile of wipes sitting on top. And Sam pointing at another pile of wipes on the floor.
I switched on the light to see what was what and started to stuff the wipes back into the box only to discover that it was completely full of crumpled up wipes already stuffed back in.
I stuffed them in with difficulty, picked up the ones from the floor to deal with after Sam. I told Sam it was ok that I cleaned up and I tried to organized his very disorganized crib only to find.... More wipes!
His blanket was wet from top to bottom, more crumpled up wipes that he had missed were tucked under the folds of it. It wouldn't have taken him long to pull out every single wipe from a full box, maybe 5 to 10 minutes. But to then work at stuffing every single one back into the box? To eliminate every piece of evidence from his crib that he could find? (His blanket was truly soaked.) To stack the ones he couldn't fit on top of the box back on the change table and only give up in desperation when part of the pile fell on the floor? And then to call for help from the people he knew would be 'grumpy' about it?
I am impressed! I'm in awe a little of the sheer determination of the mind that would do that, that he got all the way to the very end of the box, he pulled out nearly 100 wipes, and then worked very very hard to fix it and make it look like he hadn't done it..... I wasn't even mad. Though I did initially ask what did you do? I later, when he remained rather upset, remembered to tell him several times that I forgave him.
Sweet boy fell asleep pretty fast after that; a last hug and kiss from Mommy and Daddy helped.