"Hmmmm . . . . nice and warm in here . . . . so peaceful . . . I just love napping . . . ." "Wha . . .! Something's tickling my tummy! Now it's on my spine! ACK! Now it's on my - - - -!!!!"
"Mom must be up to something. I wonder if she's peaking at me? She's the curious sort, so I bet that's it. I'll just make a face at her . . . Aren't I handsome . . ."
(Oh dear, he's already complimenting himself on his good looks. Apparently his "low self-esteem" comes from his father.)
"No privacy! Now she's looking for my unmentionables! Ack! I'm just not going to cooperate. Maybe if I keep my feet twisted together very tightly, just like this . . . ."
"This whole situation is getting annoying. I think I'll have to fall back on my favorite stress-reducing technique: 'Punching Bag Mommy'. Okay, time to work out those biceps!"
(Oh, I should mention that the little stinker was not able to thwart us forever, and he was FINALLY revealed to be a boy.)
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