The "big, big bed"

So, there's apparently some confusion here about the sleeping arrangements.  WME and her accomplice, Bearded Daddy, keep putting me in the baby cages.  There's an upstairs baby cage and a downstairs one.  Sometimes I lay in the downstairs one and play and watch the cats come to visit.  I don't like to stay in the upstairs one at all.  Anyway, they seem to think I should sleep in said cages.  However, they need to understand that I sleep in the big, big bed.  I have tried to teach them by laying on it and watching WME get ready for work, and falling asleep within minutes so she sees how natural it is, but she's a slow learner.  Sometimes they let me sleep in the big, big bed at night, and they sleep on each side.  I let them have just enough room that they don't fall off, in the hopes of training them on the appropriate sleeping arrangements.  I'll keep you posted on their progress, but I have little hope that they'll catch on anytime soon.  They seem stubbornly attached to the idea of me sleeping in a cage.  If I'm an animal, I'm a WILD animal, and I cannot be tamed or caged.

Get off me, woman!

People.  This mother of mine.  She snuggles me, and I fall asleep.  It's like a big dose of Benadryl, whatever that is.  Can someone please tell her I have things to do?!  I have a very tight schedule of playing on my playmat, hanging with my bouncy seat homies, and pooping my pants.  I don't have time to SLEEP IN.  Someone talk to her. 

Case of the Ickies

I don't feel well, friends.  I've got the pukes.  It's making me fussy, and the only thing making me feel better is laying in MY big bed with the Worst Parents Ever on each side.  WME is uncharacteristically allowing this to go on.  I might stay sick longer than truly necessary to take advantage of this. 

"No more neck cheese!"

That's what WME said to me this morning.  "No more neck cheese."  If you don't know what neck cheese is, it's this delightful stuff that forms in the chubby neck rolls of cute little babies like myself when we let formula roll out of our adorable little mouths and down into said rolls.  I am an excellent neck cheese manufacturer, because I know if I slobber out enough of the nasty stuff, WME will put it in my stomach tube and then I can lay back and enjoy the feeling of being full without working for it or having to taste icky formula in my mouth.  This woman is trying to hold me back, I tell you.  She's damaging my self-esteem by limiting me like this.  And Grandma is no help this time.  She is also anti-neck cheese.  I'm surrounded by haters.