When it's quiet, and it isn't 3am...
...he's likely to be stripping down to his baby birth free butt.
When it's quiet, and the sun is up...
...he's most likely peeing on the floor.
When it's quiet, and he's in his room...
...he could be writing on his walls with the one rogue crayon or pencil I missed whilst cleaning up.
When all you hear is CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH...
...he became tall enough over night to reach to bottle of puffs you thought was out of reach, and now they are all over the floor, the table, in his mouth, and down his shirt. But not in the bottle.
When it's quiet and it's 4:30pm...
...he's gotten so tired from waking up at 5:30 am after not having gone to bed until 11:00 pm, then, to skip his nap so as to allow him a normal bedtime, he's fallen asleep in the laundry pile assuring another 11:00pm bedtime.
When it's quiet and you smell some poop...
...odds are his butt got itchy after running away from you saying he didn't go poop in his diaper, he scratched that itch then wiped what was on his hand on his pajamas because they were icky.
And then, so rarely we find these times, but when it's quiet, and you know the kids are tucked in their beds...
...you grab a beer, your husband, the remote, and anything else you've been wanting for the last 20 hours, and you sit down, ( or lay down*wink wink) drink your beer, turn on the movie you've been wanting to see...
...then fall asleep 10 minutes later.
At least, that's what happens at our house.
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