Keep it in your pants!

A quarter after 5 this morning Gryffin comes in our room whimpering. I scoop him up and carry him back to his room where he tells me that his bed is wet. I'm thinking this can't be true, he's not even wet but I check none the less. Sure enough, his bed was soaked and his diaper was dry. I get Mike, who proceeds to change Gryffin's jammies, there was a little wet spot on the side. I change the bedding and get milk. I tucked Gryffin in and climbed back in bed. Not five minutes later I hear him crying and opening his door. I get up and as I step into his room I step into something cold and wet. Little man had peed on the floor in his favorite spot. His little legs were dripping. I may have, OK I did, mutter a profanity. I know, I know. This will cause my child irreparable harm and make him talk like a sailor. Anyway, Mike heard my bad mommy skillz and came in. He would've spurted a potty mouth too but I warned him of the danger zone. Bless his big heart he got a towel and mopped it up while I did the same to Gryffin. Now Gryffin is awake, telling me so even and I'm trying to explain to him that playing in his diaper is bad and 'B' has to stay in his diaper. 'B' is the name he gave his well, you know. He looked up at me and said, 'I take care of B'. Yup, kid you sure do. I reiterated my comments that 'B' needs to stay in his diaper and that he will be going back to bed when he just smiled and asked, 'Mommy, you loving me?' Melt melt melt. I told him that yes, I loved him but that right now he wasn't making it easy.