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
My Birth Story
Merinda's First 2 Weeks for Comparison
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