Hey! Thanks for the super awesome party yesterday. It was great playing with my cousin, until she touched my new horse and I had to unleash the prehistoric screams of an angry pterodactyl on her. Maybe next time she will realize that any item my mouth is chewing on, belongs to ME. I know that I've demonstrated a love for foods of various textures and flavors but please, I beg of you, do not ever attempt to feed me "cake" again. That stuff will send you to an early grave. My favorite flavors are still "floor grate by the door," and "bottom of the swiffer sweeper." Call me when you can bake me a cake made of floor grate mud in a fine frosting of swiffer sweeper sludge. I'm mildly saddened by the fact that my goals for my first birthday never came to light. I guess that since I am now one, and I still have my sight, I should make some new goals. Did you know that I've joined a base jumping class? That is why I've been practicing throwing my body into furniture, diving head first off the couch, and leaping off rocking chairs. After nap time can you lift me up to the top of the fridge? I've been sewing my burp cloths together to make my first parachute for months now. Didn't you wonder why I'd been so good about taking my "early bedtime"?
Despite my best efforts, he still manages to lick this grate no less then two times a day.
By day I practice jumping from this small scale washer and dryer.
By night- the real deal.