Cribs

So Mommy and Daddy put me to sleep. Here's the sequence of events: Mommy feeds me from her teat. Daddy the rocks me in his arms. I cry, so Daddy gives me some formula. Then they wrap me in a sleeper. And then I wake up five hours later.

Tonight, though, when I woke up, I wasn't in my bassinette, and I wasn't in Mommy and Daddy's room.

I was in a crib. And I was in the room where they change my diaper.

What? Huh?

You know, a nice little advanced notice would've be nice.

Here's the thing, though: I kinda like my crib. It's bigger. It's softer. I've got a cool mobile to look at. It's warmer. And I don't have to listen to Daddy's snoring or Mommy talking in her sleep.

And I can fart with freedom.

Loudly. Wetly. And at any time of the night.

And nobody will hear me except for the stuffed doll in the corner, and he knows not to snitch.