Memoirs

You’re starting to really flex some imaginative muscle. Your toys are now talking to each other in baby babble punctuated with the occasional toy hug or kiss. You like to eat the strawberries out of our “I am a Bunny” book. Today you plucked the colour from each fan blade on your ceiling fan while I changed your diaper… then you ate that colour. Blue was good but red was even better! “Jassey eat boo. Jassey eat geen. Jassey eat wed. Mmmmm. Wed!”

You are no longer a bird who lights upon my shoulder. You are a sack of wiggling potatoes.