Dear diary,
I am almost 52 weeks old... and I know what I want
for my birthday... one of these. Yup,
I love anything with wheels.
You gotta admit, this is a wheel!
It's the wheel of Dale's pickup.
Suddenly that line makes sense... "she dug him
'cause he drove a pickup truck".
I had an accident with my 1:18 scale alloy VW... there I was, rallying over the toy box, and bang, sheared off a front kingpin. She was a good car, that one.
I've been helping Mum and Dad renovate the garden. I do the bridge testing, and I taste the dirt to see that it is OK. It's hard work, and Sis has not been much use, I reckon. I also slow the traffic in the street down. You should see the cars come back to the speed limit when they see me playing only a few yards from the curb. How fast do they think I can crawl?
Mum and Dad are starting to understand the phrases I can say.
It's about time. Stringing two words together is hard work
with so many neurons committed to working on this whole wheel
thingy.
Week 49
Week 46
Week 42
Week 40
Week 38
Week 37
Week 36
Week 33
Week 31
Week 29
Week 27
Week 25
Week 22
Week 21
Week 20
Week 16
Week 12
Week 9
Week 7
Week 6
Week 5
Week 4
Week 3
Week 2
Week 1
First Thoughts
My Birth Story
Merinda's First 2 Weeks for Comparison
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