Dear Mama,
Now you know I love a good game of peek-a-boo.

And I’m forever indebted to you for introducing me to the best meal ever: spaghetti.

When you let Kate make me a snack?  Oooh, that is just the best.  She is way more generous than you are, Mom.  I try to stuff it all into my mouth just in case you decide to confiscate half of it.  In all fairness, though, you are super nice to let me run around in my diaper sometimes.  I love it so much.  Makes it much easier to squat, you know.

And should you need help cleaning out the fridge . . .   I’m your number one helper.  It’s really the least that I could do.

But, please, I beg of you, please don’t ever make me play in the snow again.

I will. not. move. my. feet.
Not even one little bit.

And in case my tears don’t convey enough of how I feel, just observe the cry-slobber.

Have pity on me, dear Mama.

I remain your faithful baby-of-the-family,

Eliza