I haven’t figured out the exact science or phychology behind it, but my son turns into a mad man when he is naked. Something about letting it all hang out makes him jump a little higher, scream a little louder, and run a little faster. I guess a lot of toddlers are this way but my little nudist put me through the ringer this morning; it took me 45 minutes to get him dressed for school.
It was the most fun game he had ever played, running frantically around his room and kicking wildly as I tried to cram his foot into the world’s tiniest boxer briefs. Even the allure of robot underwear wasn’t strong enough to pull him from the naked whirling dervish he was performing on his bed. I literally hold him down while I put on his little underwear, pants and shirt, once clothed the beast was magically tamed and he willingly put on his socks and shoes. We were 20 minutes late to school.
I don’t understand why jumping on the bed naked is more fun than jumping on the bed with pants on, but I guess I am an old body-conscious mom and not a care-free two year old. I makes me a little sad to think that someday in the not so distant future, Leo will not take tremendous joy in naked jumping parties for one. So I guess all I can say is “jump on wild man!”
Obviously, there is no photo with this post.