My little (and mostly stationary) little boy has turned into a psuedo-crawling squirmy mass of teething slobber and curiosity.

I used to be able to sit him on the couch next to me, put my arm around him and watch an entire episode of Lost with him only readjusting a few times for maximum comfort. It was a pleasant way to spend a Saturday, just me and the Bug hanging out in our PJs trying to figure out just what the hell is going on with that friggin Island.
In the last …