J took this picture a few nights ago when it was still cauldron-like here and Toby was enjoying a piece of ice and running around the living room engaging in some serious nudie time. I couldn't figure out when I downloaded it why I look so ticked and tired. In retrospect it's clear I must have known that tonight I would be freaked out (pppbbbltltltlt to the nurse advice line) and take Toby to the emergency room only to find out he's got jock itch. Yes, jock... itch. He's too cute to have the word "jock" be used in reference to his, er, area.
At a year and a half, Toby is officially a toddler. Is his having the medical issues of an older, damper, wrinklier man part of some elaborate hazing?