In case any questions still linger regarding my maturity, we threw a birthday party to make it official:
I AM A ONE-YEAR-OLD!
We can’t un-do all the fun that was had, so there’s no going back now. I have come of age and reached a state of oneness. I’m not sure what this entails for my peers, or what the current research concludes, but I am my own trend-setter, so becoming a one-year-old looks a little bit like this:
- I can turn up my sass-a-frass attitude with little warning.
- I say “Uh-oh” for all noteworthy (and meaningless) life events.
- When I need a little privacy, I’ll just shut the door. No adults allowed back in the room!
- My new dance moves include a fancy head-banging routine.
- Feel free to call me anytime; I can hold the phone up to my ear. (And because I’m really talented, I can also place other items to my ear, like remotes, socks and toy cars.)
- When I’m finished eating, instead of politely refusing the next bite or impressively using my “all done” sign language, I’ll just spit my food at you. Because I’m classy like that.
- I’m considering legally changing my name to “No.” People seem to call me that more often than “Jaeger” and it’s really growing on me. I’m not sure if folks think that’s actually my name or if it’s merely a term of endearment? Either way, I just smile and nod and continue on with my day.
- I am winning most of the wrestling matches. (Some people refer to these as diaper changes.)
- My cuteness trumps all naughtiness at this age, so I plan to take full advantage of that before my charm expires. Therefore, don’t mind me as I push the limits of the “wonderful ones” so we can all be better prepared for the “terrible twos.” You’re welcome.