Since your failed attempt at flight, life has been pretty calm. You continue to eat everything in sight and sleep like a log from about 7:30 PM to 8:30 AM. I couldn't be happier with these two traits.
Your newest trick started on Thursday, June 17th when I got to pick you up from daycare. You saw me, yelled "Daa-daa!" and ran into my arms. This would officially mark your first word and the first time you called out for me. (I hate over-exaggerating but isn't this why the Internet was invented?) This is the most earth shattering event of my life. Yes, you emerging from Mom's vagina was certainly a memorable moment and one that no amount of alcohol can ever erase, but this was punch-me-in-the-face-and-spit-down-my-throat memorable.
You called my name and RAN to me. You couldn't wait to for ME to hold you. Not one of the wonderful ladies at daycare or Mom, but ME. Being that you've been stuck in this "THERE-IS-NO-DADA, ONLY
You've since hollered my name out numerous times and correctly directed it at me, but I haven't been there to hear it. I've either been outside mowing the yard or you've seen me through the glass at daycare. But I'll take what I can get.
The only real recent drama is that you graduated. Or your day care teachers kicked you out of the infant room for making out with that little bastard, Cole. It's one of the two. Anyways, you are now in the "young toddler" room. And you hate it like I hate baked beans. Why anyone would cover a delicious vegetable with enough sugar for monkey bread? It's just gross.
Mom dropped you off the first two days in the young toddler room and each time you screamed your head off. So yeah, that's great.....It's hasn't affected her at all.......
So, if you don't mind, can you cut that shit out please? Thanks.
Love,
Dad
