I made John a chocolate cake that involved literally more than two pounds of chocolate. He liked it very much, and he liked it for breakfast best.
Auntie Liz got him several boss t-shirts, and he wore the one with a detachable cape all day today. He liked running around with his bubble mower, pretending he was flying.
He runs very carefully, most of the time, by doing more of a giant walking stride than a run.
He likes to wear his fox pajamas, but he calls them his "Boxes!" and I say, "No, fffffffoxes!" and he says "fffffffff-Boxes!".
Every single time he sees a yellow bus, green bus, dump truck, fire truck, race car, minivan, truck, van, taxi, or motorcycle is the very best time.
He is very polite and always says, "Please can I have more candy please?" How cruel I am to say no!
And for his birthday, he got all the bubbles. And they were his, not Oscar's. Never Oscar's.
So suspicious! Rightfully so!
OK, maybe sometimes Oscar's.
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