I have written about your independence recently, but again it strikes me.
This week you have started making your own toast, pulling up the stool, taking the bread out, putting each piece into the slots, and pushing down the lever.
You remind me as I remind you, "Look with our eyes, no hands. It gets 'hottsy-tottsy.'"You get the peanut butter and jelly out of the fridge and sing the "peanut butter jelly" song while you watch me spread them on your toast. A favorite breakfast.
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