Mama told me that today there were a LOT of people spying on my diary. She says they think it’s very funny, and as you can see I find this to be a shocking statement.
Diary, I thought that you took me seriously. I never write silly things to you. This is where I know I can share my deepest thoughts and feelings and be validated. Now I don’t know whether or not you’ve violated my trust. But if I can’t talk to you, then who?
And besides, as much as I AM surprised that people think I’m funny, the picture above is really from last night. Mama got me new toys. And daddy and I were playing in the living room when she brought them in. Diary – they are round toys, like the balls in my play table. But one of them has TAGS on it. Clearly, that’s what I had laser-focused my gaze on here. I have no idea why mama cuts the tags off of things she buys. Does she not know that she depreciates their value to me when she does that? The ball toys are really good, except that they run away from me when I try to grab them. I push to try to get to them but for some reason they go further away. So I yell at them, and daddy brings them closer. I’m glad I trained him well as early as I did.
Also – could we talk for just a second about these pajamas? I love monkeys as much as the next guy, but the scale of the bananas printed on these jammies in relation to the monkeys is so completely outrageous that it makes me want to write a strongly worded letter to the manufacturer. How do they expect less detail oriented babies to gain an understanding of real life relationships between objects?