Sleeping in the wet spot

One thing that was great about our trip was that everything was new to Clio, and being an avid explorer, there seems to be nothing better than, well, a whole new world. Troutbeck had much to recommend it- an old stone manor house, a babbling brook, a wide variety of beautiful plantings- but our room, and particularly the headboard of the four poster bed, was especially fascinating.

I should maybe mention here, by way of explanation of the half-naked exploring, that Clio has become even more impossible to change. She freaks out when you get her on her back- and more and more often, she manages to get away from me. This time, I didn't have the heart to interrupt her climbing expidition. Look how pleased she is to have made it to "the top":

Later that afternoon, when we pulled back the covers to take an afternoon nap, we discovered that someone had made a big wet spot in the sheets, right between our pillows. Turns out that bare-butt time is dangerous, especially when combined with exciting new activities.

Dave slept in the wet spot. But only because it was more on his side, and I think we were both too tired to argue.