June 6, 2009

I speak a lot these days. I say meira about everything. Sometimes it's the first thing I say in the morning and Mom and Dad don't always seem to understand just what it is I want more of.
At the end of our trip last weekend I ran almost into the impact point of this waterfall and when we came back out again I said meira and dragged Mom back into the cloud of water for another round.
I use some words that are really complicated like krokodil (crocodile) and I say things like keyra pabba bíll (drive dad's car) that are almost sentences. I point out all big jeeps I see and say pabba bíll. I say pabba bíll maybe 300 times a day.
As you might know Dad also has a small Chinese Vespa. When Mom and I was driving towards the swimming pool the other day a big motorcycle passed us at very high speed. Then I reached out and yelled pappaaaa.
I like Dad's car so much I don't want to get out of it. If we go somewhere short like to the supermarket I say meira and get angry when I have to leave the car.

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