So the packing continues this lovely Christmas day. . . and so does the discovery of old childhood treasures. When we were little our mommio would make us little simple bound books that we would then draw in and make up stories. We would then narrate the story to mom and she would write on each page what was happening in our drawings. These pages come from a little book that I'm guessing is circa 3-4 years old for me. Apparently I was clearly aware of the male anatomy (my parents always had us use proper names rather than silly nicknames), and apparently even at that young age I understood that guys could be creeps.