Entry 1
May 30, 2010
The Prophets have told us many a time to keep a daily journal of our lives and I have noticed how adult members of my family find this so very hard to do so I thought I would take a jab at it. I will begin by relaying an account of a Sunday morning.
Woke up this morning and leisurely lounged in my crib while I waited for Mother to complete here morning self cleaning. Once I was noticed I demonstrated my keen knowledge of the buttons that worked my cribs music machine and then put on a cute display of walking around on my bouncy mattress and lay down to cuddle in my cool summer sheet/blanket adorned with dinosaurs surrounded with green vegatation. How easily the Mother is impressed by my prancing about and "cute" smile.
I ascended my crib in the arms of Mother and was whisked away to the place I am changed. I say out loud "Poo Poo" to watch mothers face light up. Mother corrects me but I know there really is no Poop but I like to see her correct me as if I don't know. Mother thinks it is the cutest thing to give me my soiled diaper and to watch me schlep it to the trash myself. This morning I decide to proudest and throw it down in the hall. She tells me "NO no", in her loving way, like I am a child. I don't want to carried my heavy soiled diaper I want my mornings meal. Picking me up, she hands me my soilings and transports me to the trash receptacle and I reluctantly throw it in, knowing she will not let it rest till is is done. "Num num" I repeat. Placed in my thrown I await this mornings culinary delight.
I dine on Cheerios and milk in my own little blue bowl with my own fine spoon. I am perfecting the art of fine spoon dinning. Yes I did slurp my milk but this is an art worth refining. It was a quite morning just I with my food and well enjoyed. Mother was completing things such as her Sunday school lesson and prepared some of it a the dinning table. Totally unacceptable in my eyes. Coloring while others are dining? Appalling really. Once I finished my first helping I decide to make a spectacle of myself and request "MORE". Mother promptly arose and retrieved the golden colored box and added yet another small hand full of beautifully sweet circular oats into my bowl and adorned them with an addition of cool while whole milk. Father has decided that whole milk is the best for the entire family. Blue caped milk is not to reside in our fridge. After rethinking my request after consuming but a small quantity of my second helping I decide to turn my bowl over and watch it plummet to the ground below. Needless to say Mother did not find this amusing. Again Mother does not understand my actions and she never shall.
Christmas Cards are here again!
8 years ago
