Ah, exhibitionism: it ain’t for all of us. My two-year old, however, has certainly taken a shine to it lately. Usually for no rhyme or reason at all, at any time of day, I can find Connor butt-naked, riding some kind of toy or, like the other day, attacking his completely grossed out older brother, with nary a care in the world. Take the other day, for example: he had been playing in his room when the doorbell rang. It didn’t occur to me then (though, perhaps, it should have) to check him out before he came bounding into the living room STARK FREAKING NAKED while I signed for a package from UPS. I don’t know who was more mortified — me, or the UPS guy. But Connor was delighted to show off his current lifestyle choice and showed zero signs of self-consciousness.
This is a relatively new thing to Con. Not too long ago, he hated being naked. HATED. IT. Like, “I will put on every ounce of anyone else’s clothing if I am not supplied with my own” hatred. I’m not sure when the change occurred, but this new thing… I’m not feeling it. Thankfully, he’s a little fella; I can still fit him in 24 month onesies without them looking all kinds of ridiculous. I’ve thought and thought about what could possibly have triggered the new-found love for streaking; here’s what I’ve come up with.
- Luke Bryan. No, I’m not saying Connor is stripping for Luke Bryan. Keep your imagination in check, partner. But the other day Mr. Bryan’s song Strip it Down came on, and while LB usually makes my kid cry (not even kidding — I always have to change the station in the car his songs come on), this time Connor stripped it down. Subliminal message? God, I hope not.
- Potty training. Rather, the ongoing joke in this house that we call “potty training”. For Connor, this simply means he sheds every piece of fabric and discards his diaper or PullUp accordingly. But instead of running to the potty, he goes Marathon Man on me and runs, loose as a goose, through the house. Kid’s pretty fast when he’s not suited up.
- He’s Tarzan incarnate. He’s always had an affinity for the outdoors; perhaps he’s just trying to live out a past life? We live in rural Louisiana; I can’t have little nude dudes running around my house. They have laws for that around here, for crying out loud.
- He really enjoys grossing out our semi-modest six year old. I really think I’ve hit on something here. Connor comes bolting around a corner like a skinned squirrel and Gabe just dies. Con thinks Gabe’s revolted cries for help is hilarious and climbs all over him like a spider monkey. I’ll admit — it’s pretty funny. Kind of contradicts my “keep to your personal space” rule, though.
- He’s a two-year old boy who has recently found every guy’s favorite body part and is innocently living the dream. This is probably the real reason, although not as fun to think about like my Tarzan theory. Gabe and Connor are night and day about EVERYTHING, and it oddly didn’t occur to me that they could be polar opposites on the subject of “modesty” (whatever “modesty” means in the light of little boys, anyway). Gabe likes to be COVERED — even when he sleeps. Connor, on the other hand, would be happy if I’d let him roam Target in the buff. Obviously, that ain’t gonna happen. I may as well let well-enough alone, though, and take solace in the fact that, for now, his little tush is still cute and said tush can fit into snap-able onesies. Praise Jesus! Hopefully this little phase of his won’t last too much longer… our UPS guy still can’t look me in the eye and with Christmas around the corner this could pose a problem.
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