You have been progressing well with you’re consumption of whole foods, Baby Rangirl. Nom mom on that piece of scrambled egg. Gobble that piece of banana pancake. Sip on some water from the sippie cup your highness refuses to hold yourself. Whine for no reason- wait. Why are you whining?

Yo Gabba Gabba! is playing on the iPad to help contain…I mean rest…those vocal chords of yours. You have food that gods eat themselves. Ugh. Fine, we’re through eating. Your antsy, I get it. You are like the female relatives on my family’s side: slow eaters. They’re primarily skinny from the fact that they’re still eating their breakfast from Kindergarten.

Oh wait- you’re happy again when I picked you up. Ugh. I see why. You’re cooing and practically wooing my laptop set atop the dining room table. Man are you glowing. Natural Indian roots unveiling, aye? You haven’t carried on a typical babbling conversation with either Mommy or myself all morning until 8:49AM, as you practically defy the laptop to give 1 reason why you two shouldn’t be interacting. Ugh.

Just go, nerd.

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