When I was a kid, having tubes in your ears was a pain in the ass.
I didn't have them, but I remember people who did. It made them high maintenance about going swimming -- a direct result, I'm sure, of their mothers warning them with the Most Serious Voice about getting their ears wet. (I know that voice. I have it now. You get it when you become a mom.)
No one understood why those kids couldn't really get crazy at the pool parties. They kept telling us they had tubes in their ears, and we couldn't see any tubes, and that sounded crazy, but they wouldn't budge on it, so we just left them alone. (Marco Polo, anyone?)
Luckily, that's not how it works anymore. With the tubes. I should know. I have two children and we are on our third set of tubes. And no, we didn't sponsor tubes for anyone not in our family. And yes, our ENT loves us.
So anyway, Sawyer has them now. (Jack had two sets, if you're counting.) And as with Jack, they have transformed him from a sleepless snot-ball to a happy, cooing, pancake gobbler.
Even the seventeen teeth he's sprouting can't slow down this cuteness.
Hope someone makes you a pancake today.