Today I woke up to a cool house, a happy Dadda, and a diaper filled with poop. I had Corn Pops or rather H-E-B Corn Puffs since my Mamma and Dadda don't always buy name brand, an orange and some white grape juice.
I want to tell you about a boy I read about. In case you're wondering if the TV commercials are right, yes, your baby can read. . .if he or she's not a complete idiot, but I digress. This boy was named Vladimir and while his Dadda spent the majority of his time playing with drooling dogs and bells, he shoulda just watched his baby son, I'm sure he called him Vladdie.
If Vladdie Pavlov were anything like me then he probably had a very obvious conditioned response. For example, when Dadda, or Mamma for that matter, snores on the couch, it means I have to jump on them. Another example is, whenever Mamma, or Dadda for that matter, is working on the laptop, I have to slam closed the lid and laugh. And, lastly, if you do virtually anything I will drool. . .maybe that last one wasn't a very good example.
Dadda and I wrestled on the floor today and we got tangled up in blankets and couch pillows. Since Dadda couldn't reach his cell phone I had to call 911 with my V-Tech phone, but they didn't respond for over half an hour. Hey! I pay my taxes! What? Am I living in a bad neighborhood or something?
Anyway they ended up using the jaws of snuggle to get us out and we all had Goldfish and juice boxes.
Today I am verbose a little chatterbox!
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