Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

We have a a policy in my house. A policy that was clearly not set by me. A policy that states:
When I leave the little man alone with my husband I am 1) Never allowed to call to see how he is doing (aka seeing how the husband is managing) and 2) When I get home I am not allowed to ask (aka pry) about what they did or didn't do.
Sure I get the basics. What he ate, how he slept, if he went number two, etc... but other than that I have to use my imagination.

I was thinking that now that the little man is bigger, maybe this policy should be revisited and revised. Hey, Obama is thankfully doing it for the country, surely we can take it on in this house. I was thinking of revising it until I came home from brunch with Julie Q and Legally Brunette on Sunday and I found the little man looking like this:

Do I really want to know what happens when I'm not around? Forgetting the fact that it was only 50 degrees outside, and forgetting the fact that I left the little man fully clothed just 2 short hours earlier........ you know what? I don't. What happens on Dad's time is better off staying on Dad's time.

Yes, I am still slightly concerned that I have yet to find the clothes that he was wearing that day, but on the upside Dad did find a great way to keep peanut butter off his sweater!

Don't ask, don't tell it is!