Montesorta

So when I woke up today, Goomba was here and she doesn't put me back to bed when I wake up too early, because Goompa was raised on a farm and there's no such thing as too early. I snuggled in her room for awhile before heading downstairs for breakfast and a fun-filled morning. It was so early, that by the time everybody else came downstairs, I was done sitting in my high chair and it was time to set about my daily routine.

Lately I have found immense pleasure in taking inventory. Let it never be said that I take my possessions for granted. I've seen other baybee's houses and they don't seem to have as many toys as I do, but that may be just because they don't know how to properly take inventory as I do. Below are the steps of a proper inventory.

Inventory, and so can you!

1. Obtain something to write on, be it a crayon and pad, a Magna Doodle, an Etch A Sketch or pasta sauce and some white wall board.
2. Select categories with which to sort items before counting, such as Good for throwing, Good for hitting people with, Good for wrapping around neck, Good for carrying around like a purse or satchel and Cars.
3. Take out items in each category and count them. Pacing is a personal preference, but be mindful of the indirect relationship between speed and accuracy.

It is important to note that steps 1 and 2 are completely optional, as is the need to count.

Once the contents of all containers are on the floor in the widest area of the given room, your job is done. Now you know exactly how much stuff you have. The other day Dadda took me upstairs for a nap and forgot to give me my Babba. Not only that, but he had the nerve to tell me that a sippy cup filled with milk was the same thing. Well, you know how it is with a new skill, you need to practice it as often as possible to get it right. I quietly and quickly took inventory of my room and determined that Bubbas have a lot of clothes in their dresser and that none of their socks fit me. Not one single sock!

I am an affectionate little boy. When asked for a kiss I oblige by placing my face close to the intended recipient and allowing them to kiss me. When someone crouches low to my level and opens their arms wide for a hug, I run and tackle them or proceed to scale their frame until they buckle under my weight and I can wrestle them and empty their pockets. Now my embraces have come under criticism lately. That is why I have taken it upon myself to practice giving hugs. Last time Dadda took me on a walk, I hugged every short red metal hugging practice dummy we saw. These are weird harmless things on just about every street corner in our neighborhood.

Hugging Practice Dummy

Although I think my practice hugs went swimmingly, Dadda grimaced each time and thoroughly washed my hands and clothes when we got home. Also while we were on this walk, Dadda fussed at me for trying to experience nature. Often I like to stop and examine things closely. Dadda likes to make shadow puppets appear and make them eat things off of the ground. That's simply not fair, shadows have weak digestions and should only eat a low-fat high fiber shadow diet. I tried to eat an acorn instead and Dadda slapped it out of my hand. Jeez, if he wanted it so bad he should've found his own acorn.


Today I am maniacal, a handful!

Snobody can catch me!

Today I woke up, went to Mamma and Dadda's room, and had to wedge myself between them for a nice warm snuggle. Of course I had to share my dreams and ramble on for awhile before they grumbled at me and woke up to start the day. Now that I know there is something to miss early in the mornings, I have no interest in going back to sleep. From now on if it's 5:30 in the morning I'm getting up, and by "I", I mean everybody!

I brought Dadda my Playskool Silly Sounds Checkup kit because when I pressed the buttons on it all I could hear was a clicking sound. He took it into the kitchen, put new batteries in, and showed me how to use it. First, he got a teddy bear off of the book shelf, then he performed a full physical and handed it to me so I could try. 

I shook my head with disappointment and showed him how it's done. The first thing I did was ask if the bear had insurance. The bear had the nerve to think I was running a free clinic! Fortunately for him he had private insurance and after a co-pay and some paperwork I referred him to a specialist, after all, I'm a doctor not a veterinarian! Besides, I could tell that he was obese and had high blood-pressure and those were obviously preexisting conditions so. . .

Despite the cold weather I thought it would be a nice idea to head outdoors today. Of course Dadda was against the idea so I had to use the pet door several times, although each time Dadda eventually came out and got me. After being scolded and then warmed up I decided it was time for a snack. You gotta be careful with snax around the doggies because they will take it and no matter how much you fuss at them they won't give it back.

Sometimes I wish I was a dog. I wonder how much dog food one would have to eat in order to become a dog, because at the rate they're eating my food, I should have a couple of baby sisters by now!

Dadda put yellow and red stuff on his eggs today. Mustard and ketchup! Have you tried this stuff? I insisted every item on my tray recieve a generous portion of each susbtance in order to enhance my dining experience. After lunch, Dadda said I smelled like a hot dog. If I was a hot dog, could I go outside without getting in trouble? By the way, that wasn't hot dog he smelled.

Today I am accepting most forms of insurance friendly and helpful!

Josh's Hidden Picture Game!

Can you find:

1. Woody from Toy Story?

2. Capt. America?

3. A yellow tow truck?

4. A foal?

5. An alligator?

6. A calf?

7. Someone who is willing to clean this up?

8. An Easter Island Statue?

Thanks for playing!

Wait. There's a New year?

I woke up this morning and let myself out of my crib, went to Mamma and Dadda's room, grabbed my morning bottle and a book about furry monsters and returned to bed to read. After a quick morning nap, and a poop, I was ready to start the day. Yep, my crib is a cage no more. To paraphrase the great poet Mayo Annaise (sp?) I know why the caged baby sings. He doesn't know how to get out of his crib yet!

There is a lock on the door to my room for when I'm allowed to get out of my crib but I can't leave my room for "safety reasons." That's fine, I can entertain myself, enclosure or not. You see, the greatest of my talents, besides engineering and mischief manufacture, is organization. Although science has debunked the whole left brain right brain myth, I still contend that I left my brain in one of my toy drawers once. That is why it is imperative that one stay organized!

Mamma has made pretty pictures to go on the front of all of the drawers in order to attempt some arbitrary system of organization.

 

Exhibit Eh?

I, however, have a different way of organizing things. I usually empty one entire drawer piece by piece and line up the items in the order that I wish to play with or destroy them. I tried to get Dadda to take a picture of this so you could see it, but he was either snoring on the couch or playing on the computer, so you'll have to settle for this piece of modern art.

Can you find the monkey?

 It is entitled, "The Burden of Ego", which was a much better title than my first choice, "Life: The Unsolvable Puzzle". 


Well routine is once again in place here at home. I am enjoying more freedom, but things are still where and when I expect them. However, I am told this is a new year. That's a bit wasteful, don't you think? What was wrong with the old one? If it was up to me we wouldn't be so wasteful with time. I mean I hear quite often how this and that are a waste of time. Of course when people are just throwing out perfectly good years and bringing in new ones willy-nilly, it's no wonder. So I went to bed as usual and I was forced into this new year against my will. I heard many grumbles the night before saying good riddance to the previous year, but I kind liked it. I did most of my best stuff in 2010.


So I will eat a piece of toast to the new year. Here's to 2011, the year of cinnamon raisin. . .and butter. . .slightly burnt on the edges. Actually I don't even want this, where's the dog?


Today I am nostalgic joyful!