Although lately, my Baba has been calling me Greased Lightning.
I don't know, I just put my head down, crawl, and hope I end up wherever I want to go.
I also hope she keeps smiling at me and laughing, though I don't know why she shakes her head as she laughs. Or why she squeezes my cheeks and says I'm lucky to be cute.
That Baba. Always hiding from me. I keep following her, calling out "Ba! Baba! BABA!"
But when I can't find her, well, what I have found that really soothes me is dirt, in this big round pot.
And some green leafy things that are really fun to yank on.
It's fun because everybody comes running when I find that stuff. Must be some kind of party room. Though it's kind of clean and there are no toys, only some pots of dirt and leafy sticks, and these great stacks of paper. Last time I got a taste of the paper, Baba squealed loudly and yelled "Not my books!"
Then she called me a little turd.
Baba really loves me.
Really and truly.