Splash!

Last week was my birthday! I made it a full year with these yahoos as parents. It wasn't easy, but I'm still here. I even taught them a thing or two along the way about how to address my every whim and desire. It's good to be the king!

For my birthday, Mom, Dad, and Grandma Julie went to the Bay Area Discovery Museum in Marin, just across the Golden Gate Bridge. It's a lot of fun! We spent most of our time there in the "Tot Spot", where I could crawl through tunnels and play with water. So much fun to get so wet!

Though, they made me wear a silly hat and apron in an attempt to keep me dry (as if!)





















Here I am whacking the water wall in the tunnel:




















And here I'm showing a fish who's boss:




















There were some buttons inside that made cricket noises, and I love making noise:




















We had a great time! Then, we went to Sausalito where we went to Fish for lunch. I had fish sticks, french fries, salmon, dill pickles, and a root beer float. What a day!

Word Up!

One of my very favorite books that Mommy and Daddy read to me all the time is called "Hug" by Jez Alborough. You should buy it, it's great.

They read it to me all the time, and there is a part in the middle where they get all excited and say "BoBo!" while bouncing me on their knee and squeezing me tight. It has to do with a monkey or something, I don't know. I laugh politely, but have been meaning to tell them for quite some time that they were saying it wrong.

Two weeks ago, I decided to tell them about their mispronunciation. So, when we got to that part of the book and Daddy did his little song and dance about "BoBo", I corrected him. I said, "Daddy, it clearly says "DODO", not "BOBO" Duh!". Though, I guess it came out as "D'oh... D'oh".

Dad thought this was monumental, so he called Mommy into the room and we had to repeat the whole routine. What's the big deal? It's only words! They acted like I've never spoken before, when I quite clearly remember telling them lots of things. Like the time I said "This AC/DC song is so very derivative. I vastly prefer their earlier work." Maybe they need to clean out their ears.

Since that day, I've been dumbing down my vocabulary a bit so they can understand what I'm saying. Now, I'm slipping in a "Mommy" here and a "Dada" there. Mommy seemed a little sad that I was saying "Dada" to Daddy so often, so now I call everything "Dada", from my water bottle to the dog to a roll of toilet paper. All of them are "Dada" until she gets over it.

Then, I'll switch to saying Mommy and she'll likely wish I hadn't after a while.

Oh, and there's some news about a little brother showing up in August. He'll have some learning to do - this is MY house, we play by MY rules, pal.