Fake Samuel

So apparently a hairy Baby was born and it made the news. Whoop de doo. Look, I could have hair if I wanted to, but some of us still follow that old respect your father thing, and how would it look if I beat him in the hair department. Yea, not very good.

To insinuate that I'm a Dell boy is a pretty low blow, even coming from the father. I don't get that guy sometimes. You know, I'm like hey get this Dell catalog out of my face and he's like no wait a minute its a cute picture, i'll put it on the blog everyone will think its super funny and I'm like forget that i'm sick of your constant exploitation. And then he does that thing, where he pretends to sneeze, and I'm laughing because, well, its just hilarious.

Dork. Went out and killed a few patches of grass with the stuff later that night. Unbelievable.

So I'm on my tummy the other day and I'm fine but you know I'm making a fuss like I do, just to throw off The Folks and they just keep throwing toys in front of my face, like I want them to do. Then I get picked up. Anyhoo, so I have a swing now.

Margaret Wise Brown's Good Night Moon is a rather innocuous book with a rich subplot. This book transports you to a world where enormous rabbits rule the world and when night falls evil awakes. Only death awaits those who dare stay up past their bedtime. A warning to toddlers and children alike lies within these pages: "Go to bed, for the love of God go to bed or we'll all die." Two thumbs up.

I can hardly stand it. Jump and play and squeak and bounce and stroller and nap and eat and play and crinkle and tummy time and bounce and grass and nap and sit and ..... Bla bla bla Shoot me.

Technology is amazing - I can type and address millions, if not more, within minutes. I remember when I was still gestating - nobody was blogging about the stuff that really matters, you know? I wanted to, but we didn't get wireless until my third trimester and by then space was kinda limited. Any hoo.

And he's like quit chewing on me every chance you get, and I'm like whoa whoa whoa you're the one with the soft chewy exterior that makes such a cool sound when I rub it just right on my gums. And he's like *sigh* whatever, jerk.

And I'm screaming about it, not in a real specific way, but just a generic scream, like I usually do, and The Folks aren't getting it. I'm like hey give me a tylenol or something sheesh and they're like oh oh oh lets check for poops or maybe its time to go outside for a bit or (my favorite) why are you so crabby today, like its my fault. And I'm like hey this could be a tumor or something. And then all of the sudden I couldn't see for a few seconds and I'm like whoa hey what the crap was that. And then it happened again and I'm thinking crap its retinoblastoma with mets already in my brain, i'm gonna die, i'm only 6 months and i'm gonna die, and I haven't even driven a car yet. Anyhoo, turns out I was falling asleep. Felt much better after my nap.

"Where's Elmo? A Peek-A-Boo Book" (softcover, 8 pgs) is a fun filled romp through Elmo's alternative lifestyle. The Father read me this book the other night and was I captivated? Yes. Yes I was. The books colorful pages, soft texture, and interactivity immediately intrigued me. The plot however, was definately lacking. "Where's Elmo?" I am not interested in the where he is. And when you look deeper, the book gets creepy. "Where's Elmo?" Where isn't he? He's under the table eyeing Cookie Monster's thighs. He's in the park ominously watching Bert and Grover. He's even in Ernie's bathroom, watching Ernie bathe from behind a towel. Its disgusting. Now, I did appreciate the crinkly parts of the book, and some of the better tasting corners, but all in all I give this book a thumbs down for general eeriness.

A group of "experts" says that artificial life is likely by the time I'm in grade school. Money quote is the last sentence, referring to those who worry that artificial life forms could get out and "run amok": "When these things are created, they're going to be so weak, it'll be a huge achievement if you can keep them alive for an hour in the lab," he said. "But them getting out and taking over, never in our imagination could this happen." As my daddy would say - "For Sure". My take on this? As long as they share their toys, and don't cut off the milk supply, I say whatever. Heck if they taste good and fit in my mouth, I hope they do come.

And he's walking the grass again. He just paces, back and forth, back and forth. And pushing that huge loud thing in front of him. He pays so much attention - this must the the 2nd time in as many months that he's done this - to the grass. Sheesh. I've seen it, sat in it. Its nothing special. But he treats it with such special care, making sure each blade turns a golden brown color. It makes me sick the attention it gets that I don't get. So sometimes, I eat it.

This guy was on the cover of some album that was popular way back when my parents were young. Anyway they photographed him naked and stuck the picture on the cover! Now he describes the whole incident as creepy. Yea I'd say so. Welcome to my life buddy. I live with the constant reminder that the Father could at any moment put one of many shall we say 'indecent' pictures of me on the internet for the millions who visit his blog to see. Try living my life man.

But I can pretty reliably touch anything I want to, when I want to. I just think about it, and it happens. My hands move at the mere thought of what I want to touch. And once I'm there - watch out I'm touching like crazy. Unless I can't reach. Then I get pretty Tee-Owed. Cause I usually end up on my tummy.

And she's all like hey lets go backpacking sometime, we're going on a quick 60 mile hike this weekend in the friggen' rockies, you could come if you want. And I'm like sounds great I love roughing it. I refuse to go without my lunch though, so I'm wondering, who's gonna carry mommy in their backpack?

Some day I will tackle thee. Your melodious insults taunt me as I try to climb thee. Your delicious music books and wood paneling threaten to distract me from my goal. But I will summit thee. And you will respect me. Or whatever.

Apparently those wacked out Baby Einstein videos are bad for you. I never subject myself to such filth, but you can just tell the babies that watch them. They're all like I'm so cool I watch these videos, I know its bad for my health but I do it anyway just for the image. And I'm like well you're dumb. I wanna get into a good preschool and I'm not gonna take videos to get there. And they're like c'mon take a look - it has bright lights and sound. And I'm like I don't need your videos to feel good about myself, I'm on a breastmilk high 24/7.

Yo mom - somebody threw up in the exersaucer and if you think I'm going anywhere near it until its washed, you've got another thing coming. Thats just disgusting. Anyhoo.

OMIGOSH THEY MAKE CARS IN ALL SORTS OF COLORS. Did you know this? I was out with the father last night and there were at least 4 cars in the parking lot. 2 or more colors were represented. Kinda freaked me out.

The folks get so worked up if I'm not pooping or peeing on schedule. Sheesh, you're feeding me pureed green beans and pears and you're worried I'm gonna get stopped up? Calm down some. Anyhoo. So sometimes I just hold it and wait for the perfect moment.

I heard the folks discussing that they're going to introduce peas this week, so I've been prepping the face I'm gonna make. Sort of a ewwww what the crap is this stuff give me more i'm starving face.

And the folks are like woo hoo yea good job way to bounce. So I stop. Cause I'm not into attention like that.

...and she's like I just went on this phat Canadian vacation with snowtrains and hotels and boxcars in the wilderness for days on end. How many Canadian vacations have you gone on ever? And I'm like, yo. Give me a break I'm like barely 6 months old. Physical age. Mentally I'm like 43.

I'm finally able to tell the world how things really are in the Machado house. I know you've been waiting to hear my side of things.