The learning has already begun. Daddy is teaching me the obscene hand gestures of the world-- here's the results of my latest lesson:
I believe in Iceland, this means something rude about your mom.
The last few weeks have featured a long string of admirers. First, some of dad's friends came over for his 28th birthday and were subjected to the reality that their collective biological clocks were ticking.
Tick tick tick tick...
Dave Burnett looks freaked out. How much do you want to bet he's not getting any tonight?
Then Pakei (apparently, Hawaiian for "Grandpa Keith") and Cousin Sydney came and visited from the place mommy refers to as The Motherland:
Look closely-- that's a real smile!
And that's a real bottle of formula!
I've also been out and about. Dad dragged me to class one day. Honestly, it was pretty goddamn boring... I fell asleep, but luckily I didn't get called on.
This place is soulless. I'd like to see some more bright colors and flashing lights.
Finally, mommy wanted me to include at least one artsy photo which explores the intimate bond between mother and daughter. So yeah, here it is.
Is this not chicken soup for your soul? Is it not?
