Then Grandpa came out and stayed with us too! He reads me books. I love books. Maybe even more than constuction.
I tried to be good while they were here, but it was very hard. Sometimes I just had to lay down on the floor and cry at the injustice of it all! Daddy would come home from work and ask me if I was good, and I would tell him that "I wasn't a nice boy" He would ask why, and I would tell him the important reasons, like "cause I wanted open the door" and grandpa did, or that "I want mommy hand me the milk" and grandma did instead. You know, the important things. It is hard being two.
