At playgroup today I heard a lot of talk among my peers about this guy named “Santa” — apparently he’s a very kid-friendly kind of guy who does nice things for little people everywhere. Naturally, I thought this was a guy I wanted to meet so I managed to convince my primary parental unit to get me an audience with this fabled character.
Personally, I don’t think this dude gets out much. When I first saw the ridiculously long white beard and the goofy red suit and cap, I thought this was a man with issues about growing up — I mean he’s obviously centuries old with that beard yet he wears a sleeper out in public (I have one just like it too…with the goofy cap).
Naturally, I screamed when mom tries to deposit me on his knee…. please! Let’s chat a bit before making me cuddle with this guy! Anyways, he didn’t seem to know what to do with a screaming baby so I tried to break the ice by playing peek-a-boo with the elf taking the pictures. He seemed to relax a bit afterwards but…. I dunno… I guess I’ll have to get to know him better before passing judgement.
Mom smiles a lot, I’m noticing….me not so much.
I think it’s because she has teeth. Maybe teeth make you smile? Or maybe the teeth just hold your smile in place. I tried it once but it hurt my cheeks.
I’ve finally got a few teeth of my own now… but they’re kinda useless, really. I mean, what’s the point of having teeth on the bottom of your jaw if there are none at the top? I keep jabbing my upper gums! And they wonder why I seem crankier than usual…
It turns out I have another brother. Dunno how I missed that one…he’s been around all this time but, quite frankly, all these adult males start looking and smelling alike after awhile.
I’m not sure about this one though…. he’s been educated in the black art of Mechanics and works at the most revered place my papa calls “Canadian Tire” yet he seems obsessed with playing with the engine head when this motor is obviously having some carburetor issues. I made a few adjustments but, as you might guess, being 2 feet tall limits my ability to influence change. Personally I think he should switch to a motor vehicle that has a bit more muscle…perhaps something a little German….
I am soooo freaked out! I knew about the holes in my head… as far as I can tell I have one for each finger (on one hand…) and, I’m proud to say, I can point to them all when my handlers mention their names: “ears”, “nose” and, the big one, mouth. And I figured out their purposes too (duhhh…. doesn’t take a two-year-old to figure those out).
And I kinda suspected that I have a couple of holes in the diaper zone but I’d rather not muck around down there, if you know what I mean. What freaked me out is, like, the other day I’m getting some big time attention because I figured out where my belly was, then today… Papa sticks his finger INSIDE my belly and says, with an evil smile, “belly button”! My jaw must have dropped when my fingers slid down to his and, I’m not kidding, right in the middle of my belly, I could feel another hole!!!
Yuck! I’m really worried now… what if my arms get longer and I discover a whole network of holes? And what possible purpose could a hole in your belly serve? Drainage? Feeding? Accessories? I shudder to think of the possibilities…
So here’s Grand-papa Joe visiting from Toronto and, as far as I can tell, he’s bored with the adult company. So I read him a story… what else could I do to entertain him?
Mom and dad are busy doing whatever they do and here’s poor GPP Joe trying to occupy his time. Fortunately I was chillin’ on his lap, so I read him that story about that poor Hippo trying to get his dad’s attention but his dad is too busy to play. I think he liked it…
OK… so I’m a bit embarassed, I think. Suddenly my mom thinks I need some nekkid time to commune with nature and I find myself, sans nappie or much else, out in public view. I must admit that the breeze is somewhat refreshing – but I do feel a bit vulnerable. Crawling is easier… but, between you and me, I’m a tad self-conscious as I meander across the front lawn wearing nothing more than a hat and a bit of drool.
Oh great…go ahead. Snap a picture of me while I’m chasing an ant up my nose. Thanks! I’ll leave you a surprise on the blankie…
This liquid thing has me so baffled.
It looks solid, but my hand goes right through it. It’s almost always attached to some hard-surfaced projection and seems to flow to a bed of not-quite-solid material but I can never get a good grip on it. Sometimes I think I’ve got a good grip on it but then I open my paws and nothing remains.
Does anyone know what this stuff is made of? Is it safe?
Did I mention I have no teeth yet?
I’m not worried about it yet but my mom is a bit stressed over it… but have you seen her mouth bones? She’s got a huge smile that is all teeth! Looks great, really… but I’m a bit worried. If I’ve got her dental genes what’s going to happen when those larger-than-life pearly whites start protruding from my teeny little gums? I’m afraid I’m going to look like Bugs Bunny’s girlfriend!
I’m so not looking forward to having a tooth…but it’s one of those darn milestones.
My buddy Alessandro popped in for the weekend… what a blast! He’s a dynamo, honestly, AND fully ambulatory! He came in like a hurricane and interfaced with just about every toy I had in roughly 2 minutes. Did I mention that he can walk?! He’s from the big city … Toronto… a big place which, I’m guessing, must have more than a hundred people!
This is my buddy Kate. She’s the coolest… amazingly genuine, erudite and way more experienced. She’s actually chewed on meat and knows how to fall asleep without parental intervention and, let me tell you, that’s just so not me.
She wears her heart on her sleeves though… when she’s happy she squeals. And when she squeals you’d better have some ear protection….