Always look on the bright side of life.

Zeke is going through a phase that can only be described as, um, Oedipal.  Lecherous, even.

In addition to STILL being in the naked-all-the-time toddler phase, lately it seems like he just wants to consume me.  He only wants to sleep pressed up against me.  If I'm sitting on the couch, he's on me.  If I'm walking from one part of the house to the other, he wants to come with me and hold my hand.

"Mama, I just want to be with you."

"Mama, if we go to the store, I don't want Josie or Daddy to come."

"Mama, I want to snuggle with you."

"Mama, let's get married."

Then there's the fact that when he's on me, it's like being with a cross between a horny teenage boy and an octopus.  Constantly kissing me, licking me, running his hands over me, trying to reach his hands inside my shirt and touch my boobs.

The other day I was wearing a dress and sitting on the couch.  Zeke walked up, lifted up the edge of my skirt and put his head under it.

"Well, that's disgusting," observed my mother, who was visiting for the weekend.

Add to that his tendency to be constantly tugging at his junk or otherwise touching himself -- on the couch, in the car, while he walks around the house, and I'm beginning to worry that I'm raising a little pervert.

Yesterday we were all up in Zeke's room playing with blocks.  Zeke (who was naked, natch) found a red plastic ball about half the size of a tennis ball.  He propped it between his butt cheeks and started walking around giggling.

"I'm kind of nervous that he's going to grow up to be some kind of fetishist porn star," I said to J.

"Well, at least he'll make some serious coin and get laid a lot," J responded.

I guess that's one way of looking at it.