1st February: There's a hole in my face!
2nd February: It's my mouth!
7th February: I've discovered how to pull my own pacifier out of my mouth. If I could only get the damn thing back in again....
10th February: Mum claims to hold record for replacing pacifier (26 times in ten minutes. Dad refuses to compete).
15th February: Mum and Dad decide to move house but concede they will have to take the chidren with them and so begin viewing properties. I decide to demonstrate my willingness to participate in this adventure by proving that I can sleep anywhere and manage to remain unconscious throughout every house viewing.
20th February: Mum discovers that I'm ticklish.
21st February: Mum discovers that tickling me too much makes me throw up!
27th February: Now that I've found my mouth, I figure a bit of experimentation is in order. During my afternoon feed, I decided to try a biting action in the hopes that this might speed up the delivery system. (Can one ever have too much too fast?) When Mum finishes screaming (and she complains about my yelling?), she proceeds to tell me off! How am I expected to learn if every experiment merely provokes parental wrath? And I fail to see why Mum should start to mutter about dreading the arrival of my first tooth - whatever that is.