Sam’s Town

August 19th, 2010

When my dad sent me emails updating me on Sam’s days while we were away, he … well, he wrote them in her voice. It was kind of hilarious, not only because he did it, but because he wanted us to write back to her …. err, him. It was a little awkward, but when I went with it, it wasn’t so bad.

Here we are again, this time for a program I’m doing for Huggies and their Highchair Critics site (adorable). This, from Sam, is a Day in the Life. From yesterday, a day which — well, I’ll let her tell you, but it wasn’t a good day. She might not look like me, but she shares many of my expressions, right?

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HOLA! (That means “hello” in Spanish! Am International baby!)

(I should warn you right now that I’m not in the mood for any poop from anyone or anything, including my mother, unless that poop is in my super-comfy Huggies diaper, in which case, I’m a big fan, because I kind of like how cool and tingly the wipes are on my bum.)

(TMI?)

Look, I’m not going to lie, it’s been difficult around these parts lately. My mind is racing constantly, I’m starting to get a handle on some things (I LEARNED TO MOVE THE GATE AROUND THE TV! HOLLA! BUTTONS BE MINE, BISHES!), and in the middle of a perfectly lovely afternoon, my mother — who, I have to admit, sometimes I don’t like all that much, because she’s just trying to keep me DOWN — is telling me to take a stupid nap.

I know what you’re thinking: that’s absurd, right? Absurd! Who can think about resting when there’s so much to DO! I woke up this morning raring to go — the sun wasn’t even up, but I was ready to go. My dad always says, eat when you’re hungry, sleep when you’re tired, work when there’s work to be done. Clocks are the shackles of The Man.

Mom was pretty peeved, but whatever. Lady be crazy. There’s a lot to do, sister, and I ain’t got time to be lounging around in a bed with bars. You have a problem with the time I get up, go to bed when I do! It’s easy! I’m well rested!

So I showed her where to put her nap by pretending to close my eyes for a few minutes to appease her, but then, sorry, I was just DONE. A girl can only take so much. I have STUFF TO DO, and I don’t see why this is so hard to understand.

Besides, I threw Mr. Mouse and Teddy out of there, so I was all by myself, staring at the animals on the wall wondering why they don’t ever SAY anything. I’m thinking it’s because they haven’t been asked the right way, so I keep yelling at them. Mom says it’s impotent fury, but for God’s sake, no matter how many times I tell her that I don’t speak English, she doesn’t get it.

Anyway, the day was destined to be doomed after a totally lackluster breakfast of Cheerios and blueberries that my pitiful excuse for a mother threw down on my tray like I was supposed to be grateful she opened a BOX. Sorry, lady. No dice.

And she wonders why I don’t eat that much. Go ahead and see how many dry Cheerios you can eat without a drink. I’ll wait. Oh, what’s that? Your mouth is sealed shut with Cheerio paste? VINDICATION. Oh, why was there no drink? Because my mom NEVER remembers a drink. I usually have to cough conspicuously to get her to remember. Obnoxious, but it works wonders. Give it a whirl sometime! Tip from me to you: Pretending to choke really gets those parents in gear.

I’ve got DSS on speed-dial, gentle readers. One day, I’ll use it.

So then, after breakfast, I’m all kickin’ it with my jars of Play Doh, carrying them around in my fly tote bag, when suddenly the doorbell rang and my buddies Molly and Gracie showed up! Why doesn’t anyone WARN me before this stuff just HAPPENS?

Of course they brought their mothers, too, and I’m kind of looking forward to the day we don’t have to drag those ball and chains around. We’ll be eating Play Doh, using scissors and splashing in toilets to our hearts content!

NOBODY GONNA BRING US DOWN. PLAY DOH FOREVAH.

(And scissors. CANNOT WAIT. IMMA CUT ME SOME COUCH CUSHIONS.)

Anyway, I like my friends, but I’m not a fan of their little mitts all over my stuff. Like, Gracie was pushing my stroller around and sitting in my car, and though I didn’t say anything, I gave her a good hard look, just to make sure she didn’t break it.

You break it, you bought it, Gracie. Don’t make me.

But seriously, who comes in someone else’s house and just uses their stuff like it’s theirs? Do … do people DO this in the real world? I’m not convinced.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, as Mom looked a little irritated that I was even up and about, but whatever, there was Yo Gabba Gabba, and she let me watch the whole thing in one sitting. Man, that DJ Lance is a hoot.

PS, I stayed up an hour later than usual, too. BOOYAH, BROTHA! The key is to look happy, but be really loud about it. PRO TIP FROM TEH BABY.

I’m OUT! Catch you on the flip!

(I am DELIGHTFULLY diabolical, AMIRITE?)

Disclosure: I have partnered with the Huggies brand to help promote Huggies Little Movers Diapers. I have been compensated for my time commitment to the program, which includes writing about my family’s own experiences from my daughter’s point of view and/or their experiences with diapers. However, my opinions are entirely my own and I have not been paid to publish positive comments.

Entry Filed under: Beeber McSteebs