The Ten Ouncer

I'm a growing boy. And judging by the stares of disbelief by doctors and parents, I guess I'm much larger than I should. Daddy calls me his Big Overachiever. I like where he's coming from.

Anyways, I've been rocking the six ounce Born Free bottle for my formula. And it's worked okay. But now, with me fitting in nine month clothes at just five months old, six ounces just ain't gonna cut it.

So Mommy bought me a ten ouncer.

This thing rocks.

First off, I can get all filled up at just one sitting. I gotta tell you, it really sucks when I down six ounces and have to wait for Mommy or Daddy to refill the bottle. That takes like two minutes, which might not seem like much time for you, but that's a nice chunk out of my life. It's torture. I want to eat. It's like someone giving you the surf while holding back the turf.

That's not cool.

So thanks, Mommy, for bringing ten ounces of happiness to me every night.