I've gotten into the habit of talking to myself in my crib when I wake up. To Mommy and Daddy, it's just incoherent chatter. But if you were fluent in the language I speak, you'd know that important things were going down.
First I take roll to make sure everyone is present. Teddy bear? Present. Mexican Chicken doll? Present. Knicks Monkey? Present. Wyatt? Present.
Then we go over what I dreamt about last night. Usually it's something tame, usually Yo Gabba Gabba influenced. Then I line up what I plan on doing the rest of the day, as in time of naps, toys I'll play with, cabinets to open and whether or not to tease Mommy and Daddy with some sort of breakthrough they can brag to friends and family about. Then, when we're done with that, I'll give everyone present a pep talk to get them through the day.
At that point, I'll summon Mommy or Daddy to come and get me. But what they take as crying is actually everyone in attendance singing "Baba O'Reilly" by the Who.
Yep. It's true.
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