My nephew, Special Delivery, is nearly six months old, and he’s at that stage where he still wants to be held a lot, but he won’t be still. Holding him is like riding a wild bull at the rodeo. When you get ready to hold him, you’d better cowboy up ‘cause it’s going to take every ounce of strength you have to keep him from flying out of your arms. As daddy says, SD is like a worm in hot ashes. And daddy should know. The following photos were taken about a month ago while we were helping Mrs. Scrubs and Super Cop move into their new house. (Pssst. Mrs. Scrubs would want me to remind you that they were moving in order to explain all of the clothes lying around in these photos.) And while he started out nice and calm in the chute, that stinker was all over the ring as soon as the gate opened. That boy makes it tough to get a picture of him that isn’t blurry. All of this wiggling would explain why he’s wearing pureed squash in his right eyebrow. AND how Mrs. Scrubs inadvertently ran her hand into something nasty when she tried to readjust his bunched up diaper a few minutes later, leading her to conclude that this little bull was rank.