the eugene bean

I sat down to write about J. I was going to write about how I've been feeling guilty as a parent because I haven't been doing any scrapbooking of him because I don't have many good pictures of him because every time he sees the camera he looks like he needs to poo. E, on the other hand, smiles happily because he is aware that the camera equals extra attention and that is what makes the world go round.

So I was starting to write about J, when E wandered in and asked what I was doing. I briefly explained the blog, and showed him my photo on it, as well as Aunt Stace's and Nonna's. He giggled to see his own face on the scrapbook page I'd created. Then he asked if he could leave a message for everyone to read.

And here he is:

I love tigers. Umm. Ugh. Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Mmmmm. Hey, did you write that? I see those Ms! Tigers! They growl. They're bigger than lions. No. Some are. Really. It's from a book. And they are good growlers. That's it. Did you write, that's it? Hey, why are you writing more? Write, Frogm Ellis. Hag, I put a g there. And there. And a p. a tt.eikmhybvnmy