5 Months, Huh? When Will I Be Old Enough To Vote? An Update by Harry

Notice I said Harry. Not Harry Bear and not Harry Pants. Maybe my Mom will get the hint. I may want to be called Harrison these days, since I am getting so old and distinguished. I really hope I get my words soon. I already know what my first sentence will be: "Mother, Father, it has recently come to my attention that there are far too many pictures on the Internet of me naked and splashing in my duck tub. If you continue to post such filth, I shall have to take drastic action. Seriously, my Parents Pants (how do you like it, Oldy Bears?), I know it is cute to hide my down theres with a clever camera angle, a precious plastic tub toy, or my own chubby tummy, but if you continue to document my baths, I shall be forced to seek shelter elsewhere. I noticed that my Uncle Maurice and Aunt Jen sent out pictures of Max in the bath tub, but he was COVERED BY A TOWEL. Perhaps they would like a permanent visit from their nephew Harrison."







What the heck was that? Do you think I am making an idle threat here, Mother? We'll discuss this later. Now, let's attend to the business at hand-- I am five moths old today! Whoo-hoo!


Wow. What a high-tech sign this month guys. Spending the big bucks for my 5 month b-day, huh?

Wow. Paper's not as heavy as it looks.

I wonder how it tastes...

Nope. No good. At least we know I don't have pica.

It's so bendy.

and foldy.

Cool stuff here, guys. Hope I don't get a paper cut.

Really fascinating, Wonder what else I can do with it.

Where's Harry?

Peekaboo, suckers, here I am! But wait! Where'd the paper go?

Here it is!


Oh. The sign again, huh? On the couch this time. Okay.

Do not tell me to sit pretty. I am not a dog. I am a man!

I really want to grab that thing again.

No, seriously, I do.

My patience is wearing thin here, Mom. I mean it. I am famished!

We get it already. I am cute.

I am five months old. You have made your point, my friend,


How many signs did you guys make? I thought I destroyed them all. Well, just let me get my hands on this one.

I do not like tummy time, Mother,

and you are no longer the boss of me when I am on my tummy. I'll just roll onto my back. Hah!

I feel as though I could reach that sign if only I could somehow make my arms and legs work in concert with each other. Perhaps I could rest my weight on my palms and knees and push my arms and legs forward...

No, that's ridiculous. Maybe if I cry my mom will move me-- now there's an idea!

Where's the sign?

You know what I said about tummy time...