Gimme, gimme, gimme

anything edible ... I will grab your bread,  your hair,  your yorkshire puds. And I want to do it myself please. And I will squawk VERY loudly at you and growl if you don't heed my 5-min food warnings. Dadadadadadadada. Is my absolute favourite word, sentence and phrase. And I will not sit down. No way. I want to stand and I've got the thighs to do it. Here's me on a zebra, with big sis playing a rousing accompaniment on a piano in the background. No wonder I have to yell to get attention around here ...

Pox overload

It's been a grim few days ... with too many pox to count.

Uh oh

4 spots on my forehead when I went to sleep -- 16 when I woke up. We thought the chicky-pots had passed me by ... perhaps not ...

Trying very hard

I really want to crawl. I've got all the right moves -- but in the wrong sequence. And I want to talk too ... I've gurgled out a Dada (Mummy thinks) and I converse quite earnestly in 'gobleegook' (as my BigSis calls it). You can be sure that whatever I do it'll be with a winning smile ...