Clothing Optional

I'm pretty sure this is the conversation Sweetie Pie had with herself this morning:

Oooo! Nakedness! I loooooove nakedness. I more than love nakedness. I lurve nakedness. Oh, I'd roll around and revel in my nakedness if only I could roll around. Wait, what's that? What is that mommy doing? No, no! No clothing! No clothing! Arg! Why is she cooing that I look so cute in clothes when just minutes ago she was admiring my nakedness? Yuck! Clothing. Hey, I have an idea. Let me give her one of my killer smiles so I know she'll be looking at me and... there we go! The spit dribble. A pretty little spittle of dribble running from my face all the way down the front of my shirt. What is she doing? She wiping it off... with her finger? Ew! Fine, time to turn things up a notch. She didn't like the dribble? How about a full fledged gooey spit-up? Again, keep the smile going and, wait for it, here it comes! Oh that was a good one! The way I purge I definitely have a future as a model or at least an NYU student. Here comes the burp rag. She's wiping me off and... and nothing? What is this woman doing letting me sit around in a spit-up soaked outfit? I bet my brother never sat around in a spit-up soaked outfit. Fine. I'll pull out the big guns. Okay, here I go! Hey mom? Smell that? Can't just dab that up with a burp rag! Yep, I was right; the outfit is coming off! And just to show what a true pro I am, I have one more trick up my sleeve. The outfit is off. The diaper is off. My back has been cleaned. My front has been cleaned. My privates have been cleaned. The mat beneath me has been cleaned. She's going for the new diaper, and aha! She's left the new outfit at the base of the changing table. Okay, think of waterfalls, think of the bath, think of the rain... ahhhh. That felt good. And the new outfit is ruined, too. Take that clothing! I so rule. This mom of mine doesn't stand a chance.