The fajitas Mom ate last night tasted really good...coming back up. I'm just kidding, they didn't really bother me. Yesterday I went for a stroller ride to the grocery store with Mom and Dad. They seemed really excited, but I could hardly keep my eyes open.

Today I spit up on the rocking chair. I'm not sure how "spit up" is different from "puke," but hey, I don't make the rules around here. My Dad seems to think I like staring at playing cards. Something about the "bold colors" is supposed to hold my attention but really, I just want to see how long a grown man will hold an ace of hearts in front of someone who wouldn't know it from a rack of lamb. What a maroon.