Friday, November 23, 2007


When I say that you want to devour your world, I mean it literally. You want to eat everything. This I can understand - how can you tell what something is unless you know what it tastes like?

The sentiment may not be very original but it holds true; there is nothing more angelic than a sleeping baby.

Today you heard the pipes turn on in the wall when a neighbour started his shower. You were very excited that you heard them and wanted to play with them. I told you we couldn't play with the pipes because they're stuck in the wall - we can only hear them. You didn't care much for that explanation and wailed your frustrated wail, waking up your sister.

You have a shriek that can shatter crystal. It's your happy shriek and your mad shriek. I am told that you inherited it from me, most likely.

These are days made of sippy cups and animal crackers. These are magical days.

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