Week 35

Dear Zayde,


This week I learned that princesses don't have to wear their crowns.  Mommy brought me to see Ari again, but this time, when she took off my crown to inspect it, she never put it back on my head.  She took another special picture of me and told me that I'm symmetric, which must be a synonym for gorgeous.  Mommy seemed both happy and nervous at the same time.  I didn't know that was possible, although I should have considered it given that I often whine and giggle simultaneously.  Ari hugged Mommy and kissed me and said she was proud of what we've accomplished.  I'm not sure to what she's referring; maybe she's glad we were able to avoid the paparazzi despite my traveling around town wearing the crown.  When we got back into the car, I saw Mommy brush away a few tears.  She's so silly: she cried when she found out I would get a crown, and then she cried when I stopped wearing it.  I suppose I learned this week that Mommies can be as confusing as babies.  I thought about sending my crown to the new prince in England, but he probably won't have any outfits to match its pink hue.  For now, the crown rests on a shelf in my closet, just like the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London.  I expect we'll get a few tourists who want to pose next to it.  I plan to charge admittance on a sliding scale: $25 for adults, $15 for children, and babies may view the crown for free.  Gotta support my fellow infants.

This week I learned how to swim underwater to Mommy.  My instructor says, "one, two, three," and then she dunks me and somewhat launches me toward Mommy.  I kick and squirm and keep my mouth shut as I reach out toward Mommy's waiting arms.  The experience is both exhilarating and terrifying, much like being born.

I learned to open and close my fist in a motion similar to waving.  Sometimes I do it when people wave to me.  Sometimes I do it when I'm hungry because that's the sign for milk.  Sometimes I do it just to enjoy the sensation of squeezing thin air.  I like to keep the adults in a constant state of wonderment.

The most useful thing I learned this week is how to cling.  I have mastered the ability to take up so much of Mommy's time and energy that she cannot accomplish even the most mundane tasks, such as eating and using the restroom.  As proof, you'll notice that I was able to stop her from writing anything for a whole week.  Right now, she's passed out on the living room floor in a state of utter exhaustion, so I figured I would have a few minutes to write to you.  Uh oh; I hear her moaning.  I'd better go check on her.


Better late than never,
Zelda