At the grocery store last week, the clerk asked how old you were. When I told her you're 13 months old, she said "He's small! My boy is 8 months old and he's bigger than that!"
Mind you, this woman is large in size, if you know what I mean, and she said her son's daddy is in excess of 6 feet tall. Her baby's gonna be big!
Your daddy and I are not overly tall, and you're probably going to be like us. But here are your measurements:
You currently weigh 21 pounds, and you are 30 inches tall. That puts you in the 20th percentile for weight and the 40th percentile for height. You are pretty little, my dear.
However! You certainly have something to say about that. You are sure you're a big deal. You think you are the axis of this cat-filled universe. You are certain that it's never nap time, veggies are a crime, and you have the right to pull Howie's tail, chew my cell phone, and order ghastly Pay-Per-View shows on TV (all things you have completed or attempted). Congratulations, darling.
We have news for you. You're napping right now. We've planted a garden full of veggies. You'll enjoy them later! And you're not allowed to touch the cats, gum my cell phone, or change the channel.
But you are a REALLY big deal to us!
xoxoxo
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