And now for pumpkin carvings, I present Mike from Monsters Inc.:
And Tow Mater from Cars:
And now for pumpkin carvings, I present Mike from Monsters Inc.:
And Tow Mater from Cars:
A frog, a sheep and a goat all go out of their way to help the duck out of the muck.
But the last page is where I really have the problem…when the duck’s truck is unstuck? He leaves the animals who helped him, stuck in the muck.
He didn't say "Thank You." He didn't help those who helped him. He just. drove. off. GRRRRR.
I can just skip the page where his mother breaks into his house and rocks him…as an ADULT. She breaks into his house, people. It's creepy.


So, there's stuff under the tissue paper?
And as it turns out, we could have just bought him a dozen helium balloons and called it a day:
You’ve said some words besides “Mamama” and “Dadada” this month. We’re pretty sure you’re saying “Dogdogdog.” It sounds a lot like “Dadada” but you are normally looking at the dog when you say it. You will occasionally say “bye” to someone, but not on command, pretty much it’s only if they’re lucky. Then there’s the time I thought you might have said “kitty.” I’m not really sure what’s at work here. I mean, if you put 100 monkeys on typewriters, one of them is bound to type a word. You do a lot of “dee dee dee” noises. I kind of like that everything you say is in 3s. I would love to be Mamama, instead of Mama and then you can skip right on to “Mom.” (and God knows I do NOT want to be called "mommy".) Hey there’s a commercial for Volvo where this little girl is talking and talking and talking and her Dad is trying to be all attentive, but also trying to get the hell in the car and go somewhere, and he very carefully listens while he puts her in the car seat and has to close the door and get around to the driver side, and she never misses a beat, she just keeps talking. That’s you. Only we don’t know what the heck you’re saying.
I was getting the house ready for your birthday party and I set you up in the foyer with a couple toys, I gated the front door while I bleached the front patio. I could see you and talk to you and I thought it was a pretty good set up. You screamed as I walked away to get the hose from the side of the house, but you were perfectly fine and I could hear you talking to the dogs once I was out of sight. Until you saw me come back and then you screamed and pretended I had abandoned you and you had been screaming all along. We both know that’s not true, so cut that out. That’s not the only time I’ve observed this little manipulative trick of yours, you do it when I have the audacity to put you in your car seat and then lock the back door before we leave in the morning. Or when I try and go to the bathroom. Not cool.
Meanwhile, for all your punkish behavior, I almost called in cute and cuddly to work last week and its days like that when I can see why a lot of people have their babies about 2 years apart. Not that we fall into that category, see above, about the most excellent campaign you’re running.
Love,
Mamama