Oh Cr@p!

It was weigh-in day at the Holm house (except for Mama, but that's a given. Mama insists that some things are better left unsaid). I stepped on the scale first only to find out that I am 27 pounds soaking wet. Did I happen to mention that I will be three in September? (I don't think I've mentioned that yet. I'm into all sorts of emergency vehicles, power tools, musical instruments, and books... but I digress.) Mama thinks I'm like a colt-- long and lanky.

Next comes Davis-- and that is the reason for my title. He's not even 9 months and he scares me. Drum roll please...

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The kid weighs 18 pounds. Did I mention that I only weigh 27 pounds? For those of you who flunked math, that is a 9 pound difference. Mama always said that I'd be in the band and now my brother is going to be a linebacker. This is not fair. Now I really have to be nice to him because from what I understand, hell hath no fury like a little brother scorned. Perhaps I shall learn to outdo him with rapier wit, devilish charm, and stunning good looks. On second thought, maybe I'll just run and hide any time I hear him thundering through the house.

Seriously, what good is it being the big brother when your little brother can bench press you with his pinky finger?

*sigh*

Much love,

Weston

The Competition is on the Move...

It is with sincere sadness (and yes, a little jealousy) that I report that my sole source of competition is now on the move. That other kid who lives in my house and has the audacity to share my bedroom (the parents call him Davis... I refuse to acknowledge his existence) is crawling. He's not very good at it at all, but he's on the move nonetheless. Mama and daddy seem excited, but I'm devastated. Once upon a time all of my beloved toys were safely kept out of reach of his sticky little hands. But now, he takes my toys and I'm expected to share... the horror! "Share" is just not a part of my vocabulary (but apparently "anemone" is... I managed to impress the parents with that one yesterday).

Why do babies have to grow so fast? I miss the days when Davis would just lie around and dare not infringe upon my territory. At least he's not talking yet. Mama might have to institutionalize herself if Davis is as verbose as I am.

Much love,

Weston