He will probably ask you to leave his bedroom door open just a crack.
And if you leave his bedroom door ever-so-slightly cracked open, he will lie there and stare at the beckoning opening.
Eventually he will have to creep quietly out of his bed and push the door all the way open.
When the door is all the way open, he will not be able to go back to bed and take that nap that you were “giving” him, so he will sneak down the hall to steal toys from his sisters’ room.
While playing quietly in his bedroom with his sisters’ princess things, he will realize he needs to go to the bathroom; but he won’t want to. So he’ll keep playing on his bed.
Once he realizes he has filled his pants with southern chocolate, he will decide he needs to change. He will take off the pull up and throw it on the floor, smearing poop into the carpet along the way.
Not wanting to leave skid marks in the Thomas underwear that he takes out of his dresser, he will head to your bedroom so that he can “clean” himself up in your bathroom.
After wiping his bottom and flushing everything away, leaving, surprisingly enough, no mess, he will exit the bathroom and be distracted by your vanity.
He will dab on some foundation and squirt on an ungodly amount of your perfume before inexplicably feeling the need to accessorize.
It won’t take long for him to investigate the rest of your bedroom and find your hot pink, faux croc Franklin Planner to complete his clandestine afternoon of girly-ness. At the same time, he will find a zipper pencil bag stuffed full of pens and markers, and his perfumed self and his loot will head back to the bedroom . . .
. . . Where he will put on an entirely new outfit, including underwear (though backwards).
He will then sit on his bed where he will carefully line up all of the pens and markers, side by side, on his matress.
He will then unzip the planner and steal your loose change.
Soon after he will become bored and will head downstairs to tell you, “I had a good nap!”
And you will notice, as you scoop him up with a laugh to tell him he couldn’t possibly have had a nap, let alone a good one, that he reeks of your perfume. You will be only vaguely aware of the fact that he is wearing completely different clothes than he was when you put him to bed because you will be too concerned that he has doused your nice carpet with perfume.
“No, my not stinky!” he will say. So, after a cursory glance which shows no visible carpet damage, you will head to his bedroom where you will find the pull up with the poo smashed into the carpet and you will suddenly become acutely aware of his new clothes.
Then you will notice the princess toys and neatly lined up pens and markers on his bed, right next to the unzipped Franklin planner, which explains the change he’s had in his hand ever since he came down.
You will clean up the mess, clean up the kid, put him back down for his nap, LOCK the door, and go back downstairs to wash your hands and, because you didn’t kill him, reward yourself by eating an oatmeal cookie.
As you take your first bite of the cookie you will notice that your thumb smells really, really awful. You will barely keep yourself from puking as you re-wash your hands.
My sincerest apologies to Laura Numeroff.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.