The High Chair.
This can only mean one thing--the end of the world. Maybe that's a little dramatic...it really just means that EGB will be taking things and throwing them on the floor for entertainment. Entertaining for her--yes. Picking up things and washing them for me--yes.
She cried the first time we put her in there..
"Waaaaa! No more restraining devices!!!" cried EGB.
"No, no....this chair is Swedish. It's ergonomic. Babies all over the world have perfectly aligned spines as a result of this chair." said me.
"Waaaa! I don't know what "urkelnomic" is. Is that a TV show? And Sweden?! I've never even been there. I can't eat Swedish meatballs. I want out!"
"No, no meatballs, this chair is made for you to eat mashed fruits and rice"
"Oh? It is. Ok I'm down. Feed me please."
And that's how we worked it out. Now the high chair is a peaceful respite from the tumultuous world on the floor. It is a beacon of peace between parent and baby.....feed baby....baby happy....baby unhappy...feed baby..baby happy. Welcome to my world.
Check out my new chair. See the footrest that my feet don't get to rest on? Hey footrest! Quit teasin my feet! I'm growin towards you...
This chair is laughs! Not sure why. But if I smile I get free stuff.
Haaaaa. Just threw my cube on the floor for the 1,000th time. So funny watching Calvin try to eat it, then daddy try to get it out of Calvin's mouth, and then doing it again until daddy says bad words in the bathroom.
Calvin, smell my feet. Gotcha. They stank.
Mmm. Awacadwos. That's Spanish for awacadwos.
Done and done.
Haaaapy Daaaays...........
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