Okay…..Is anything in here?
Let me take a closer look.
Where’d those things come from?
BE AWARE: I like to check things out.
I seriously didn’t wanna get out of bed today.
And I sure didn’t wanna go anywhere.
Mommy and Daddy made me go to school.
But…..Some really cool old dude came to my school and brought footballs. He had us practice throwing, catching and kicking. I caught the ball a lot, but I was grumpy, so I spent a lot of time hugging all the lady workers.
I’m no fool. (Just a regular dude.)
But…..I was still pretty grumpy when I got home. I just wanted to get on my tractor and be alone. Mommy wouldn’t let me drive it in the rain or off the porch steps.
Guys do dangerous stuff! I have guy urges.
I let her know what I thought of her decision.
There’s always an adventure in my world.
Hey mommy! You know,
in a way, these are really MY wipes.
Backtalk? You mean backend talk?
(Okay. Clearly, no sense of humor. So now what?)
I’m cleaning up mommy.
(Ridiculous! She spends money on this other stuff.
She can’t buy me my own wipes?!!)
There’s the last one. Safe and sound mommy.
Look! I even shut the lid for you.
(Now I’m taking these with me, going in circles,
and confusing her with where I am. I’m not done with these yet.)
LOOK AT ME AT THE RACES! ARE YOU CARS READY!
ON YOUR MARK! GET SET!
(I better put these back quick.)
(I get the feeling she’ll be needing these soon.)
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.