Mommy sent me an email this morning. I got my first reprimand! See this is what she wrote:
Dear Bater,
I really wish you would wait to blow up hot air balloons until you are the appropriate age of 18. Mommy's tummy isn't the best place for a hot air balloon.
I also fully appreciate that you might be clostrophobic, but it's only going to get worse, my sweet child. Making Mommy sick anytime there's pressure on you probably isn't going to help you in any future negotiations when you want the car or don't want to baby-sit your younger sibblings.
In spite of all that, I love you, and I'm kind of glad you make me sick each day. It helps reassure me that you are there.
Love,
Mommy
- Bater
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