George takes the relaxation seriously because this past Sunday morning we were attempting to get him dressed to go eat some breakfast since he had peed himself in his pajamas (we need to get nighttime diapers or like not-cheap-o diapers, apparently), and he literally refused to allow us to put pants on him. As you can see, he ate breakfast pants-less. Which means he won that battle.
Mostly this just proves that George is absolutely my kid, because I'd be doing the same thing if my dad hadn't forbade me from walking around the house in my garments. It's "disturbing" he says.
Someday I will have my own home and I will be pants-less in it. SOMEDAY. For now, George is the lucky one who for some reason is "cute" when his pants are off. Which I suppose I get in some respect.