So I'm digging the rice cereal that Mommy's been feeding me. Tonight, however, she thrusted a new flavor at me, something orange called sweet potatoes.
It tastez alright. I overheard Mommy saying something like it's an acquired taste and that my stomach's gotta get used to it and I can see that, I guess.
But that's not what bothers me. Look, I know I'm a kid with limited control of his arms and hands. I know I'm not the neatest dude on the planet. But with the rice cereal, I can hide my mess because it's white, and it doesn't stain my onesie. But I just can't hide from the sweet potatoes. When I get it all over me, it's all over me.
I look like a clown caught in the rain.
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