Peekaboo!

I see you!

No fair!

How come I never get the top bunk?

All it took was one well-placed squeeze.

I heard the "snap" and my world exploded into blinding pain.

Master W.'s daddy claims to be a world-class dinosaur surgeon.

I just hope he's right.

Psst...

You still awake, White Bear?

Yeah, me too.

Whatcha lookin' at?

Bananas? Bugs? Leaves?

Can I have some?

Stop trying to take all the credit, Crayon.

We all know that Miss C.'s first letter "C" wouldn't still be here today if it weren't for me. Without Paper her mama would have been gasping in horror when her gaze landed upon a wall filled with toddler graffiti. And you... well, you would have been put on a high shelf as punishment for your part in her antics.

I, on the other hand, lend a certain respectability to her drawings and writings.

Face it, Crayon. Without me, you're nothing.

I refuse to take the blame if he bonks.

If I've told Master W. once, I've told him a thousand times.

I'm a chair. Chairs are for sitting, not for standing.

I swear, this kid just doesn't listen!

You missed a spot.

A little to the right... a little more...

Got it!

This is one tough cookie.

Miss C. and I have been hacking away at it for at least a full minute. What in the heck did she put in these things anyway?

I know I shouldn't be complaining.

This is certainly better than the last time. But still, you'd think she'd get the hint.

Cow on cup = milk in glass!

Oooooooowwwwww!

I have wheels, you know. Use 'em!

Remind me again why we decided to renovate?

The house is in shambles. Half my kitchen is outside, the dresser drawers are missing and I can't find any of my clothes!

How much experience does our new decorator have, anyway?

Mmmmmm...

Cookies for breakfast. It doesn't get much better than this.

Slow down!

I'm not buckled in yet!

Oh, man.

Master W. forgot to put away the marshmallows and this place is crawling with bears.

You don't think they'd bother raiding a tiny tent like me, do you?

Hey, where are you going? Don't leave me here all by myself! At least take the marshmallows with you!

Shoot.

I hope the neighbors don't mind.

Miss C. wanted us to check out these flowers. It's sweet of her to roll us right up to get a closer look. I'm just not so sure about the etiquette of parking a stroller in the neighbor's flower bed.

Hey, Miss C.!

Where are you going? Don't forget about us!

We don't know the way home...

Add me to the list of casualties.

I didn't think it could get much worse than being tossed over the side of the high chair during dinner.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Ever hear of high chair road kill? Yeah, that's me.

This is gonna hurt.

I just hope she pulls them off quickly. 

Man, I hate stickers.

Gorilla on guard.

Don't even think about messing with Miss C.

You'll have get past me these fists of fury first.

I'm a heartbreaker.

Miss C. has dubbed me The Seam Ripper.

I'm every seamstress's worst nightmare. I leave a trail of ripped seams, abandoned projects and broken dreams in my wake.

And I'm stuck here in the kitchen.

Damn.

Clever girl.

Leave it to Miss C. to find a way to wrap presents without actually using tape. Personally, I think it's a nice touch.

The other gifts are definitely jealous.

Peeing in a bowl on a table...

... lends new meaning to the term "public restroom".

C'mon, man! You can do it!

Just a few more feet to the faucet.

Miss C. will never know what hit her!

Hey!

Why are we leaving Eugene? Don't you know who I am? Turn this car around right now!

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Oh, man.

This used to be the quietest river around. Who told these clowns they were welcome?

I'm outta here.

Peekaboo!

Heh.

No boring baby wipes here. Just bold colored pencils.

Let's get drawing, Miss C.

Didn't you know?

Cookies are part of a nutritious breakfast.

Don't believe me? Just ask Miss C., resident chef, nutrition expert and part-time doctor.

I never imagined life would be this good.

I'm just like every other pretend sewing machine. I left the workshop hoping for a perfect match.

I spent my journey through the mail wishing for a sweet little seamstress with a big imagination. I made my way across the U.S. dreaming of doll clothes, puffy pillows, and tiny handmade purses. I hoped, but wondered if it would ever happen to me.

What if my little girl only wanted to sew lines of stitches? What if she got bored of me? Or even worse, what if she didn't like to sew?

Then I arrived on Miss C.'s doorstep. We started with alterations, moved on to diapers and now we're working on a quilt!

Sew on, girl.