Hi, sweet baby! How are you?
Fine, thanks. You?
What are you doing?
Pretty much hanging out. Being cute. Yesterday I ate a dead mosquito. But I don't get to do that every day.
Who's that baby?
Um, it's me. You already said hi. I'm figuring you already know who I am. Here's a question for you: Are you having a senior moment?
Where are you going?
Well, unless mom will finally give up the car keys, just across the room, like usual. I see a dust ball that's calling my name.
Where's baby's eyes?
What do you think I'm using to give you the death stare?
Where's baby's nose?
Right here in the middle of my face. Same as yours. And it's in working order, so please -- a mint wouldn't kill you.
Can you say, "da-da?"
Dude, are you even LISTENING? I say it all day long. Not too quick, are you?
Can you say, "ma-ma?"
Yes. Yes, I can. But I'm saving it for when I've done something really diabolical. THEN I'll whip that sucker out.
Can you wave bye-bye?
Would that make you leave any faster?