I thought it might be interesting for everyone to see life through the eyes of our resident middle child and only son, Foster. From here on out, he will be narrating this post.
My mom has been telling me for days that I need ed to get a haircut, so I took matters into my own hands. Imagine my chagrin and surprise when, after pulling me out from underneath the table with the scissors firmly grasped in my hand, they were not thrilled with the results. I thought I would be saving them time and effort, but all dad said, while trying not to laugh, was :it's gonna be the #1. Mom just kept telling Maya atta girl for running away from me.
This is me after Dad got through with me. See the cool leter "C" on my forehead? It stands for "Cool Kid." How did I get that? Well, that's a mystery. The lady at the Dr.'s office asked what happened when we were there for Ella's 9 month check-up, and I looked at my mom and asked her: "What was I supposed to tell her, again?" For some reason, that made Mommy really nervous.
After we got home from the Dr.'s, I wanted to go swimming. My mom made me really mad and said I had to play in the baby pool because she had to take care of Ella and couldn't go in the big one with me. I actually think she is just wimpy because the pool is not heated and sometimes the cold makes it kind've hard to breath. Anyway, I showed her and punished her by standing in the baby pool and pouted like a...oh wait.
Well, that about sums up my life. It is a hard one, but someone's got to the the coolest kid in the Loosiana.