I jinxed myself.

CPT Dick is one of God's most pathetic creatures -- a Red Sox fan. And though I joked that I would be decorating Munchkin's room in Yankees gear, when I found this Red Sox comforter set on sale, I clicked order before you could say, "The Green Monstah." We have an old twin bed just waiting for Munchkin for when he's older enough and I figured it would be cute to continue the team tradition.

Apparently, on some unconscious level, Munchkin understood this. Today, he decided it would be funny to start climbing out of his crib.

It was nap time -- not even two hours after I ordered the comforter set -- and we did our normal nap routine. Juice, story, kisses, the works. Five minutes after I sit down to work, who do I see peering over the side of the couch with a shit-eating grin on his face? Oh yes. My son.

We repeated this silliness about 8 more times before I realized that the thrill of the game would make it pretty much impossible for him to go down for a nap today. And this was hard for me to admit, because my son is a serious crank when he is overtired.

I knew this day was coming. He's climbed out of his crib before but only to retrieve his cup. We knew he was capable but, until today, he was perfectly happy to stay in it. And it is at this moment -- and of course when CPT Dick is away -- he's decided that he's done before confined.

Oh well. Onward and upward, as they say. Tomorrow I will drag the twin bed out of the storage room. For tonight, I just took the mattress out of the crib and set him up a little comfy spot on the floor. After gating him in the room (which he can also climb) and laying him down back three times after escapes, he seems to have figured out that he will not get another reprieve today. At least I hope not.

Thank goodness I have wine in the house.