I’ve spent my whole life (all of 10 months) cuddled in between the two people who love me the most in the whole world.  I relish the warmth and security I feel knowing I have protectors on either side of me.  Plus, I have midnight snacks at the ready by way of ta-ta milk-my favorite!  So why on God’s green earth do they keep trying to put me in that box, a.k.a “the crib”?  I HATE it!

There’s nothing appealing to me about sleeping alone in a rectangle of reclusiveness.  Just the thought of it sends me over the edge, which is why I scream bloody murder whenever I get too close to it.  They call it “my bed.” What I’ve tried to communicate to them is that I have a bed and that’s not it.  It’s called “our bed” and it doesn’t have bars surrounding it.  And the room where this square of solitude is in can’t be all that great because my big sister is always running away and sneaking into our bed.  Because that’s the place to be!  Our bed is where we have fun family time, read books and sing songs and then have wind down time.  The fact that they’re trying to kick me out leads me to believe they have a secret that they’re not telling.  Well, I’ve got news for them.  I’m no sucka…I’m not going anywhere!!