You have this pair of glasses you got in a Wendy's kid's meal. You are fully committed to them. When you wear them and I ask you to take them off, you insist that you can't see and walk around squinting.
You no longer say "fider"; it's now spider. I still occasionally get "eldebaytor," but you occasionally sneak in elevator.
You're starting to write letters. You can muster a decent copy of your name with some help. The N sometimes has some extra humps.
You have so much personality. You are funny, often even on purpose. You mimic nearly everything your brother does. You build Legos with me on a regular basis - right now we are focused on the little buildings. You are a delight.
