Tiny Dancer

My son is wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a onesie. The onesie is snapped on the outside of his pants. Sort of like a really bad tribute to Madonna. Or a really really bad ballet dancer.
Why you ask is my son dressed like a strange girl?
Let me tell you.
My son has this fun game he likes to play where he goes off into another room quietly craps his pants, digs in there with his hand and then comes running up to me with his hand out to show me.
Kind of like a cat marching with pride up to his owner with a dead bird in his mouth to show off his hunting prowess.
Only instead of a cat.
Its my 2 year old.
And instead of a dead bird.
Its shit.
And no fewer than three times in as many days I have been given the stink finger.
So I embarked on a journey to find the right outfit to deter the doodoo mining.
First I tried the onesie thinking that since every time I turned my back, my son had his hand down the back of his diaper like his butt was a dyke and he was the little dutch boy. Well that didnt work. He poked his fingers through the leg openings. Next I put a pair of pants on over the onesie.
Butt covered.
Legs covered.
Wrong.
Being the little homo sapien that he is. He just took his pants off. Leg opening once again made available for easy crap extraction.
Ok, onesie with overalls. Deterred him for an afternoon, until I caught him standing in front of the TV, with both hands down the sides of the overalls grinning with pride.
This my friends, is why my child is now running around in what looks like a leotard with ill fitting leggings underneath. Took me a while, but I think I am finally one step ahead of my child.
At least until he learns how to work the snaps....