Destruction of property

I'm not sure what kind of fine the library will levy against us for returning a book that has no pages left. Obviously, we'll need to buy them a new book. Also obviously, we'll need to remember that Samson can't be left alone in his crib with books that 1) aren't ours and 2) have pages made of anything but cardboard. Or titanium.

Vicki had put him down for a nap yesterday, and he was fussing and crying and then got really quiet. Which, she assumed, meant he'd fallen asleep. Alas, no. He had merely found a project that required total concentration. And, apparently, ninja-like silence.

There are few sights sadder than the shredded remains of a children's book, its brightly illustrated pages ripped from the binding and lying scattered on the floor like so many downed trees after a hurricane.

Worse yet, this book was in the "A" rotation for bedtime reading...