It’s a good thing that I have to type my message to post or else we’d be in trouble because my words are not very understable when I have a whiffle golf ball in my mouth. Daddy brought these home for me and soon after discovering them I popped one in my mouth and realized it fit perfect. Now I like to grab all three, pop one in my mouth, and walk around with the other two in each hand that way if one falls out I have a few spares. The only problem is that when I take them out of my mouth they are covered in drool. I guess I must drool a lot because my Sunday School nursery worker has told Mommy and Daddy that I could hydropower California’s electricity with the amount of drool that comes out of my mouth. I can’t help it if I get intent on something that I’m doing and forget to swallow or close my mouth.
Until next time . . .