War zone. First encounter.
I love spying on Muffin while he's playing in his room. He makes humming noises, a recently learned brrrrm brrrrm and high pitched sounds. He dances with his shoulders to the music in his toys. He makes his little cars run on the sides of his cot. He nervously tosses away any piece he can't assemble in less than two seconds.

When Bruno plays alone in his room, it is generally time for me to make his dinner and prepare his bottle before he gets his bath. It takes me from 10 to 15 minutes to complete the operation and, towards the end of it, Bruno usually has grown tired of being by himself. He either sings or crys a little and starts crawling to the kitchen, where i'm waiting with an empty tupper and a wooden spoon. The beats of his plastic drum linger on in the kitchen jungle.

Three days ago, Bruno showed up at the kitchen a little earlier than usual. I turned to greet him with a big smile and noticed he was clutching a dry baby wipe. He was wearing the largest grin ever. The kind of face that tells you: "Oh, i've been naughty. So naughty. I've just pulled the biggest trick in my short life. Come and see for yourself". I leaned closer and noticed little bits of something all over his hair.

As i began to realize what had happened, my heart was racing and my brain was trying to decide whether to laugh or sob. We both went into his room. The nappy bin had been turned over. There were probably two very dirty nappies in it. I can't be precise, because the contents we all over half his room. There was shit on the rug. On the furniture. On him. Him. I looked into his eyes and he started giggling. He was so proud of himself. I shrugged, suppressed a smile. Disinfecting war zone took me less than i'd expected. Rubbing Muffin's grin off would have probably taken a lot long.