I had a brilliant plan to attach the mop pad to the tummy of Michael's onesie. I figured that as long as he was going to be down there crawling around all the time, he might as well help me out with the cleaning. He seemed okay with it at first, but all of a sudden he got very upset at the mop pad, violently ripping it off of his shirt and shaking it all over the place. 
Apparently he is all play and no work. 
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