A FEW OBSERVATIONS

Dear Spike:

A few observations about you on the day marking your 14th month in this world:

1) Most people shake hands and say "hello" when they meet people. You, on the other hand, reach up and rub people's cheeks with whatever soft item you happen to have in your hand, and say "nice."

2) You have a very strange fascination with cotton balls. In fact, you won't even use the toilet unless we give you one to hold. We had to go to the store this evening to get a new bag of cotton balls because we were nearly out and we feared you might get backed up if you suddenly didn't have one to hold.

3) You love to touch the strings on my guitar when I play. It doesn't make for the prettiest music, but you don't seem to care.

4) You really hate hair clips, but you've started to tolerate hats.

5) You've begun to give your toys names. You have a small plastic penguin named "Gumbini."

6) You don't like it when people leave — even if you've only known them for five minutes.

7) You scream and cry whenever you see you mother leave the room. But if she slips out when you're not looking, everything is fine.

8) You like balloons, soft blankets, walks in the park, riding in your chariot behind you mother's bike, the sound of rain, the feel of your own hair, eating pasta, pretending to brush my hair (which is really pretty funny, as I have none), peeing on trees, Sesame Street podcasts, talking to your grandparents on the Webcam, taking baths, watching your mother cook, reading books and climbing the stairs.

9) You don't like being away from your mom, changing your clothes, washing after supper, kissing your dad, drinking cold milk, not being the center of attention, going to sleep, being forced to walk when you don't want to, falling off the bed and having bad dreams.

10) I love you. Your mother does too.

Love,
dad