...the small things.
Like that you still don't crawl. I happen to like that you are right where I left you.
And that despite the AWFUL noise you make when you grind them, you haven't snapped your little teeth off.
And that you have discerning enough tastes not to be fooled by tacky impersonations of the products you love so much--no brightly colored Fisher Price phone for this child, only the real deal will satisfy you. (And believe me, we've tried. We finally settled on Grandma's old cell phone and a calculator to simulate the remote.)
And that you love bath time so much you will sit there until the water turns cold and I have to drag you out of there screaming and clutching the little green cup designed to rinse the shampoo out of your hair.
And that you say Mama and Dada (you still don't know what they mean though--one day, everyone is Mama, the next, we're all Dada's)
[and a picture of us, just because]I love all the little things that make you, you, pumpkin. You keep surprising us with little things that crack us up and make our day.
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