I have had a fun day today with both of my parent staff, who have been amusing me with their silly ways.
This morning we went out shopping, and this was more fun than shopping usually is because we were shopping for presents ... for ME!!!
Mummy kept saying that it will be my birthday tomorrow. I think it is about time that I had a birthday. The parent staff have both had birthdays not long ago, and on their birthdays they got to open presents and choose what playing we did for the whole day. I am glad that it is my turn to have a birthday next.
While we were shopping today we went into a big toy shop, and I found a little red car and drove around in it for the whole time that we were there. The parent staff kept picking up toys and showing them to each other, and getting all giddy and excited. Daddy got particularly giddy about a big blow-up dinosaur that was about half as tall as he is, but mummy told him to put it back where he had found it. Which is fair enough, because it is going to be my birthday, and not daddy's, and I don't need a big green dinosaur.
The parent staff chose loads of toys and we carried them all out of the shop in bags. Then we went home for lunch and a play before nap time.
When mummy got me up after my nap, she decided that it would be a nice idea to take me into the parent staff bedroom so that we could all have a cuddle and read some books together on the big bed. But I wasn't in a very sitty-down kind of mood, so I jumped around the bed and pounced all over the parent staff instead.
While I was pouncing, I found a box next to daddy's side of the bed, and I climbed up onto it and reached my arms up high over my head, like my teacher tells me to do in swimming class when she's showing me how to dive.
Daddy looked a bit scared and he asked, "What are you doing, Georgia?"; and I gave him a big wide smile and replied, "I'm tacking you!"
Then I jumped on his tummy and squashed it, and he squealed and I laughed.
I had another one of my dinner time brawls with mummy tonight, when she tried to get me to eat some pasta, and I kept needing to spit it out. Mummy really doesn't like it when I spit food out. It makes her madder than almost any other naughty thing that I do. So when I spat the pasta out for the third or fourth time, she got really cross and pink in her face, and started shouting about how naughty it is to spit food out.
Then she asked me (still in her shouty voice) why I was spitting. I could tell that even though she was really mad with me, she actually did want to understand why I didn't want to eat my pasta ... so I thought really hard about my answer, and about choosing the right words to explain it to her.
Then I said, very seriously: "'Cause it's ... really dirty."
Mummy turned away from me and she didn't look at me for a quite a while after that, but her shoulders were shaking like they do when she's having a big sneaky laugh. After that she was not as mad with me any more, and I ate a bit of the pasta just to keep her calm.
When the parent staff put me into bed tonight, they told me that it will be my birthday when I wake up. They also told me that I will be two, and not one any more. I might forget about this, but maybe I will get lots of presents to help me remember.