The boy has skillz is all I'm saying. At the beach, he slept in the same bedroom as his sisters and parents in his wonderfully portable, though seriously out-of-style, Pack-n-Play. He learned, the very first night that with a heave-ho and a jaunty leg toss that he could escape his tiny prison, much to his parents' dismay.
Now the beach trip is over. Tonight, he remembered his grand beach achievements and crawled out of his crib five times. He finally stayed down around 10:00 after multiple conversations involving some light Biscuit Straight Talk (BST). The BST will have to become a little more "persuasive" if he continues this behavior.
I wish I had a picture of the little Raccoon. He would come downstairs and sit in the corner chair with his blankey and play quietly as I watched Shark Week on the Discovery Channel. When I would look at him, he would lower his face and look at me shamefaced through the top of his eyes. He couldn't fool me. I knew on the inside that he was really opening wide his eyes and waving his hands like Skipper the Penguin from Madagascar: "You [don't] see anything . . ."