Princess Jekyll and Lady Hyde

As I have mentioned multiple times in the past, I am an exceedingly good tempered princess. A moment without a smile upon my face is rare indeed. Until the sun goes down, that is. Once the twilight hours have hit, I awake from my slumber a very different princess than the one that was laid down. I am, I admit, quite the monster. I wail and gnash my seven teeth. I kick and scratch and refuse any comfort offered to me. When I do return to my unconscious state, the smallest change in my altitude will cause me to rise once more. I truly am a terrible sight to behold. Why must this curse rest upon the shoulders of Mommy and occasionally Daddy? Much like them, I dislike waking up at night, too; I am simply more vocal about my distaste.

"Just you wait! We are going to have fun tonight!"

The Hospital, or, The Dungeon of Torture

I had an illness recently. Luckily, it has passed. I can only assume, however, that Mommy and Daddy were unaware that I was sick when it was at its worst. When I was struggling just to breath, they believed it was an adequate time for me to have a checkup. This was unlike any of the fun checkups My Dear Sister gives me, though; this was the worst checkup ever. An odd device that blew air was put on my face, and it did not cease its attempts to hurt me, no matter how much I fought it. 

Then, I was given disgusting medicine that I immediately sent back, and thus had to have my clothes changed. Finally, when I thought all was over, I was stabbed. Despite my mistreatment, and the late hour, I did my best to keep my nearly constantly high spirits.

Playing Catch Up

Hello admirers! This is Ada speaking. As My Dear Sister is now fluent in English, she will no longer be contributing to this collection of thoughts, except for in cooperative entries. Her views on life are now being recorded in a collection of quotes. Someday, when I speak English, too, I will contribute to that. Well, to state that I do not speak English at all is a fallacy, as I can very clearly say Dada, Ada, Mama, and Grrgrr, although I am not entirely certain of the meaning of these words. While this seems to be a sound means of communication, Mommy and Daddy still fail to understand me. Until the time that I speak as well as My Dear Sister, Daddy will attempt to play catch up on recording how I am playing catch up with My Dear Sister. I admire her greatly, and hope to some day be just like her, if not slightly more calm and less willing to pick up a younger sibling by the neck. I spend much of my day following in her footsteps. Nothing brings me greater joy than seeing her - not toys, Daddy, nor even Mommy. She appears to exist for the sole purpose of entertaining me. Even when she is shoving me away from her toys, this is entertainment, if not of a macabre sort.