Now, for anyone who was watching us, I imagine it looks pretty cute to see someone singing and bouncing with a baby in their arms. But I can wonder what I looked like, bouncing back and forth with NO baby in my arms. Hopefully people just thought I was dancing in the Spirit.

Well, I wasn't the one who left the gate open. One of our kids did. One minute the four of us are sitting at the table eating dinner, and the next Cheryl is asking "Where's the baby?" We hear a little giggle and there he is, at the TOP of the stairs, sticking his head between the railing.

Thank God Cheryl is a Jedi and was able to float up the stairs to grab him in less than half a second. The whole rest of the night I kept trying to keep images out of my mind of what COULD have happened.

Can you ever be too careful?

"Sure dear," says me.

"And don't forget to put his bib on. He's getting messier now."

"Oh don't worry, honey, I'll be careful." That's me talking again.

Now, it wasn't my fault. He reached out, grabbed the food out of the spoon, and mushed it directly into his shirt. By the way he smiled at me, I think he did it intentionally.

I had a plan though. Cheryl was still in the kitchen, and I had about 20 seconds to try to erase the evidence. I casually (or so I thought) strolled into the kitchen, unobtrusively lifted a washcloth out of the drawer, quietly dribbled a little water on it in the sink, and even more casually sauntered back out into the dining room.

As I was wiping the food off his shirt, I hear from the kitchen, "You wouldn't be using that washcloth to wipe food off his shirt now, would you?"

Oh my God! Are there hidden cameras in Joshua's highchair? Or is Cheryl psychic? Or is it just that she's a female and I'm an ever-so-predictable male?