Illegal use of the hair...

So every week my Daddy watches the Seahawks lose on this incredible mesmerizing box he calls a TV. Sadly, he tells me that I can't watch the TV until I am two or three years old (even though I distinctly recall watching an entire Boston Celtics NBA Finals game on his tummy when I was little).

I think that these rules are pretty unfair, so I have become fairly adept at craning my head to see the glow box (which is a MUCH better name than TV). I can get pretty close to spinning my head 360 degrees like an owl, or even flipping my head upside down to catch a glimpse of the miserable 2008 Seahawks (it's the only time the glowbox is on during the day).



To prevent this, my Daddy decided to make me wear his weird curly wig, which allows me to spin my head all day long, only to have my view blocked by the curly hair. For the first few minutes it's a lot of fun, but after Daddy starts getting excited about the Seahawks (which isn't very often this year), I start to become frustrated about what I'm missing. Even if he takes the wig off so I can get a peek, it's too late for me to be happy.

Bad Babysitter

My Mommy started a new job which means that three days a week I get to hang out with a new family member. My Daddy helped the first couple of days, but he's not new (even though I still fail to tire of his hilarious jokes). One of my favorite baby sitters so far is my Uncle Nathan. He gives me fuzzy kisses and has lots of hair to grab. He also lets me break a few rules and let me back the car up in the driveway, among other things I can't mention without getting in too much trouble.