I'm Cute! -- Little E

Today, I'm Cute! Yep, sissy's valet lady told me, "You're so cute," as I waved to her today with a big smile. Then, my mom dragged me to the Half-Yearly Nordstroms' sale and I got "You're so cute" all over again. I wore my turquoise headband that goes with my eyes. The assistants dug it. I even got offered a balloon and I didn't see any other people my size packing a balloon. They must save them for the cute ones. I got to march around with my balloon out of the stroller. Things were going great until my mom got uptight around the ceramic piggy banks. I wanted the baseball pig and my mom moved my hand away, then my body away, then she picked me up and we left that area. I was not happy and screamed the whole time until she let me push the stroller. I was on my best behavior though, no biting! Back to the piggy, it is so unfair. Sissy has a purple pig that holds her money. I should have one, too!

Let me tell you. My mom thinks she is the boss of me, but yesterday I showed her. We were in the backyard for a few minutes before sissy went to gymnastics. She wouldn't let me play in the wa-wa. I was not happy but went along with her ball throwing games. Then, she went inside to do sissy's hair. I went into motion. I found some mud and put it all over my arms and in between my fingers. I love that slurping, sucking sound. Not only does mud sound great, but my mom always washes off the mud with the hose. Outside. With the wa-wa that she said I couldn't play in. So, when she came out to get me and take sissy, she found out just how smart I was. We played in the wa-wa taking off the mud. I was smiling and she, well, she wasn't.

Have I told you I can play some hoops? Well I can. Today I was 6 for 6 if you don't count all the times I missed. I had some action going on. My moves were smooth. I'd shoot. It swished. (Well maybe not all the time but it makes a better story). I'd put my hands on my waist and run around in a circle, stop, pause briefly to give my fans a better look, then keep running in a circle. It was all good. Then, I lost my touch. I'd shoot, it would hit the rim. My mom wasn't helpful at all. She kept saying, "Look at the basket." What did she think I was looking at, the ground? Please! I'm so not a beginner. Anyways, I couldn't get it together. So I stomped. I bent over and put my head between my feet. I spit. I spread out my spit. Then I got over it. I stood up and made 4 for 4 with NO misses. That is perseverance in the face of great suffering. It feels good to be me.

Later,
Little E