Day 38: No pictures of me for yesterday. I had to leave school early because of yuckiness. I had a fever and some other stuff that is just nobody’s business, cause a dude’s business should be private. Let’s just say it was questionable enough to make my mommy pick me up early from school.
She took me to the doctor and he said I could play the sick card and miss school today. But….He also said my liver seemed enlarged and I would need to get some blood drawn. That seemed silly to me. Why would anyone want a drawing of blood? And….Who do you call to do that?
Day 39: See how excited I am to go.
My mommy would be real big poopy head if she took a picture of me getting my blood taken. Instead she drew a quick version of my nightmare. That just makes her a little poopy head.
I’m a lot cuter than that.
After my torture, mommy and daddy took me to eat. I think it was more for them. I like french fries. Daddy is making a funny face to hide the fact his face looks funny.
I don’t trust daddy. He is trying to take some of my food.
I have to give him the stinky eye to keep him away.
Then we went to my sister’s school to watch her perform with her Spirit Squad and Drama Club.
“My nap was interrupted for this!” (I hope I used the right finger. My sign language is kinda rusty.)
Like….No joke. I really have the fever. Well, not anymore, but I did yesterday, so I missed school and played hooky again today. Talk about a great way to spend your birthday. No school and chilling with my shows and my pets.
Oh yeah….mommy and daddy were home too.
Anyway. I’M 3 YEARS OLD TODAY!
This is how it all began.
Then I decided not to be a dark and brooding artist. I came into the light.
Here’s me at my first birthday celebration.
Here I am at the second birthday. I look a lot cooler.
You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to see tonight’s pictures.
Besides, I’m napping right now and cannot be disturbed.
I’m really sick of this down syndrome crap where people think that everything I do is super cute and amazing. Well…..It actually is, but not because I have down syndrome. I’m just all that and a bag of Cheetos. For those uneducated folks: Let me enlighten you.
Yes. I can feed myself with utensils, but I also like to pick food up with my hands. Before you judge my mess: I’m two and it’s frickin’ pasta, which is the equivalent of your ribs or sloppy joes. And the hand thing? My significantly older brother still eats pancakes with his hands. It’s called bad table manners, not a disability trait. Well….I do have my suspicions about him.
Okay. Now this is amazing. I must admit, most adults can’t balance their cups upside down with no hands. This is due to my “destined for greatness” chromosome.
See me feeding the dog? Yes, I know the difference between feeding the floor and feeding my pet. Crazy right??!! You should see the floor beneath my siblings after they eat something. Yucky!
Look at what I did here. I took my own bib off after I was done eating. Oooooooooo……….Ahhhhhhhhhh
And for the finale: I will take my bib and use it as a mask.Why? Because I can, I’m two-years-old and I have an imagination.