Dear Diary,
Momma caught me. I was just minding my own business, pondering certain questions I have regarding life when Momma just burst into the Little Thing’s room. She didn’t even knock. She had this unforgettable look of horror in her face when she saw me. That actually hurt my feelings. Her eyes were huge and she yelled at me, “Gwennie!”
I yelled back, “What?! I’m not doing anything bad! You’re the one who’s bad. Just barge in announced. Rude!”
Momma marched right over to me. She was carrying a laundry basket which she dropped next to the rocking chair. “Get out of the crib!”
That’s when I remembered, I wasn’t supposed to be in the crib. Who wrote that rule anyway? That’s a stupid rule. It’s MY house. I’m the boss! Not momma! “Oh leave me alone!” I yelled at her. “I’m not doing anything. I’m just investigating!”
Apparently that answer wasn’t satisfactory for Momma. She grabbed me out of the crib and put me on the ground. “And just what were you investigating?” she asked me.
“Well,” I said. “The Little Thing cries a lot, especially when he’s in his crib. I just wanted to see what all the fuss and middle-of-the-night commotion was about.”
“And what was the result of your research?” Momma spoke with a mocking tone. Generally, addressing me like that is ill-advisable. However on this particular evening, I was tired and had better things to do.
“I haven’t figured it out yet. Maybe if someone didn’t interrupt me while I was trying to work, I would’ve figured it out.”
“Well excuse me,” Momma said.
“No.” I replied. “I don’t think I will. However, I will tell you what I found but only because I want to impress upon you the true nature of my intelligence.”
“Really?” she said.
“Yes. Once inside the crib I found the mattress was sufficient. It’s not too hard and not too soft. The sheet, however is a different story. It smells like pee in certain spots and in case you’re wondering, NO! I DIDN’T DO IT!!”
“I didn’t think you had.” she said. Then Momma folded her arms across her chest. “Is there anything else?”
“Well,” I began. “I really don’t have any idea what his problem is? When I sat down in his crib I observed this brown mesh-like privacy screen that goes around his crib. He’s actually got it made. I think he’s kind-of spoiled and ungrateful. You should send him back.”
Momma laughed at me. “We’ve had this conversation before. I’m not sending him back.”
“Well ya know what?” I yelled. “You’re just mean! You get out of my room!”
Momma pointed to the door, “After you.”
“Well all right then.” I marched right out of the room. Momma followed behind me.
I mean really. I can’t figure out what the hell the problem with the little thing is. He has a privacy screen. He’s got toys dangling over the crib. If he was a little taller he could bat at them. He’s got a lady bug with a butt that lights up. I really think he cries just because he can. Momma really should consider taking him back. But then again, my opinion on things like this are always ignored. I’m truly very unappreciated. It’s sad.
