Carter here. I heard Mommy say something about being tired of talking on the blog every day and how she was happy about it soon being November when some sort of blog challenge is done?
Anyhoo, being the loving son that I am, I climbed up onto the Dining Room table, located Mommy's computer, and enjoyed a tall glass of apple cider while deciding to talk to you today so she could get a break. (I only spilled half the glass on her computer's keyboard. SUCCESS!)
Last night I was supposed to spend the night at Papa and Grandma's house, but I couldn't BELIEVE that my parents expected me to actually fall asleep somewhere other than my crib. The nerve. So of course I kept forcing up vomit at random intervals until Grandma had no clean sheets left and Mommy and Daddy HAD to pick me up and take me home.
There's a solution to every problem.
Speaking of problems, Mommy seems to have some sort of issue with my superior climbing skills. Yesterday, I scaled both couches, the bookcase in the living room, the Dishwasher, Addison's dresser, Daddy's Ditch Witch (see above), the steps leading up to the bathtub, and a stack of tools that Daddy so thoughtfully left in the living room. And then, instead of telling me what a good climbing job I was doing, Mommy said that dirty little "n" word- NO. Can you believe it?
This was me after I was falsely accused of eating some blue chalk. Sometimes chalk just disappears. How does she not already know this?
Sometimes I feel like the world is out to get me. See above where I'm sweeping up the Living Room? It's OBVIOUS that I was helping clean up the mess. Right? Sure the broom doubles as a sword and Addison didn't seem to care for it swatting her in the face, but that was no reason to say that two letter N word again. NOT A GOOD REASON.
I thought Daddy was listening to my side of the story, until Addison had to charm him with a hug. That Addison. Why did I have to get such a charming sister? I'm NEVER going to win these arguments.
I like to play. A lot. Throwing myself into a good playing situation is my thing. I heard Mommy say something about me "playing rough" and keeping track of time according to my "play time" injuries.
I don't know what she's talking about. I think it's pretty obvious that I'm a
dare-devil brave teenager in a toddler's body. I'm just waiting for my tiny frame (and coordination) to catch up with my mad skills.
This was a successful frame pull down:
This was a trip into the fireplace during Addison's Speech Therapy:
And this was when I had an intimate encounter with the sidewalk at the Buddy Walk.
Badges of honor, really.
OK, I gotta go. Time to go force some fake tears so that Mommy will think that Addison stole my chocolate cookie again so that I can get another one. This face ought to do:
Yup.Works every time.
until next time,