Thursday, June 02, 2005
Oskar and I love being cats. We crawl around on all fours and talk to each other in cat language. Oskar plays the sweet cat and goes, 'mew, meow, mew', while I play the big, bad cat and screech, 'MEeeeeOOOOOW!' I stalk around the house with a cranky look on my face; it's great fun!
A couple of days ago Mum got out the mini-tramp for us. We love bouncing on it, but we have to take turns because otherwise Oskar jumps on while I'm trying to bounce and knocks me off. I get on and demand, 'Mummy, Mummy, Mummy, hold mine hands!' then I jump really high while Oskar counts to ten. I jump off and Oskar gets on for his go. I yell out, 'ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR...ELEVEN, TWELVE, THIRTEEN, THIRTEEN!'
Mostly Oskar has been nice to me, although sometimes he's very mean. But he was so sweet on the weekend. I was eating a cruskit when I swallowed some the wrong way and started coughing. Oskar asked me, 'Are you okay, Jazzie?' and once I'd recovered I replied, 'yep'. Then he came over and rubbed my back really gently. What a sweet brother.
And in other news, Amelia and I have discovered squealing. Hee hee hee...