Monday mornin' comin' down

I hate it when people write in their kids' (or worse, pets') voices. I'm becoming those kinds of people, I guess. Skip it: I would. But this is the true story of today so far:

8:45 am: Woke up. Demanded a bath by running to the bath tub and smacking it with hand. Drank some bathwater. Got dried, woke up Father, went downstairs, got dressed.

9:15 am: Ate a banana and a piece of peanut butter toast. As usual. And some peas. Drank milk and non-bath water.

9:45 am: Brought jacket to Mother. Mother put it on me and resumed talking to Father. Took jacket off, brought back to Mother. Said "Ah! Ah!" with excitement and urgency.

10:15 am: Parents finally get hint. Take me outside. Laugh at something called "plumber's butt." Climb up and down crumbling front steps. Play with potentially toxic bricks. Knock on front door and laugh hysterically at self.

10:30: To the back of the house. Climb up back steps. Knock on back door and laugh hysterically at self. Clap.

10:35: Get strapped into new wagon. Pretend I'm royalty and make Father pull me around like my servant. Laugh hysterically at self.

Peruse neighborhood/kingdom on wagon ride.

11:00 am: Return home. Remove jacket and shoes. Drink water. Eat animal cracker. Lay on the floor and play with hair. Cry a little.

11:20 am: Upstairs for earliest nap in life.

What we've learned today is that if you get your kid's heart fixed, you better be ready for a lot more activity and earlier naps.

Also, I have a great picture of the aforementioned plumber's butt, and I actually had it posted here, and then started writing a paragraph of apology to V. Then I remembered how vast the internet is, and how wrong some people are, and how much I hope V doesn't hate me when she gets older, and I deleted it. But for those of you who I know in real life, I'll gladly show you the next time we're together. It's really really lovely, albeit not appropriate for web posting.