Dear Tate,
Could you please stop squirting my shampoo into the bathtub? This is bottle number three and it's starting to get expensive, not to mention extra "bubbly" as I finally make it into MY bathtub for a nighttime relax. Of course, that's probably what you had in mind, I'm just not doing my part by inviting you in. Hmmm.
Oh yeah, and while we're at it, CD players and DVD players take ONE, count it, ONE disk at a time. Trying to listen to/watch more than one at a time does not bode well for the entertainment systems, my budget, or Daddy's blood pressure. Same goes for the WII console, but we've already paid that Nintendo bill, so really this should just be a refresher.
Moving along. When you wake up in the middle of the night and it is I you desire, scream once and then give me a minute before you scream again. I am old now and waking up and descending the stairs in the pitch black take a little time. I promise I hear you and I'm on my way. Find Pooh Bear and count to 10 (you are amazing!).You don't have to wake Daddy and the rest of the crew; just be patient and our late night cuddle and gab session will begin shortly.
One more thing and we'll close this week's agenda. As stinkin' adorable as your little bottom is, we must, I repeat MUST get into the habit of wearing underwear. I know it's your house, your sanctuary, I know you are almost, almost potty-trained, I know you're feeling alive and free and all that other good stuff, but you are also totally naked and I fear that if we don't nip it in the bud right here, we could be in some serious trouble come preschool. So just remember, when you have to go, go in the potty. And before you return make sure you're wearing pants.
Lots of love forever,
Mommy
PS-- Tucker and Tanner: you're next!
