My Day

Do you ever wonder how babies remember what they do each day? Sure, the advanced ones, like me, have their blogs to document their musings and doings but what about the other, less abled babies? How do they remember that they exist? Well, I finally figured it out. When I leave school each day, I get a piece of paper that is titled "My Day." "My Day" is exactly what you think it is--a primary source document of my life, each day, as it unfolds, hour by hour. It is my history. This one sheet of paper tells me what I ate, when I slept, what was in my diaper, what I learned, and who I may, or may not, have bitten that particular day. It also lists the things that I might be out of at school such as diaper wipes or T-shirts. Everyday, my teacher, Miss Alexis, always calls to me as I'm leaving school, "Don't forget your 'My Day'." I have to walk over and get it, making a big show like I have an interest in the "My Day." I give Miss Alexis a big smile but I never really think that much about the piece of paper because I am usually too preoccupied with other, more important details like what I'm going to do that evening or what I might read before bed. But now it all makes sense. A higher force has put into place the "My Day" for the less fortunate babies of the St. Louis area (and there might be other areas as well). As such, we have no choice but to honor and respect the "My Day." I bow my head to the "My Day." And, besides, it's good to know that I have a solid alibi. You know, in case I ever need one.