fantastic sam's or super cuts

I went to a party for Auntie Duckie and Uncle D.J. today. A lot of my other Aunties and Uncles were there too, and I finally got to meet them. The weather was comfy. Not too hot, and not too cold. But I just got hot a few times at the party because the windows weren't open yet. Thanks to Auntie Duckie, she opened the windows for me.

Pops dressed me up in my snazzy polo onesie. It had a collar and buttons and everything. I felt like a big boy in it. One of my Aunties even told me I was cute in it. Wowsers, it's a magnet for the ladies.

You wanna know what else attracted the ladies? My hair. Yup, my super fine, au natural hair. This morning, Mums and Pops wet it, combed it, sprayed it, and even oiled it -- nothing worked. My strands stood up like baby grass sprouting from its seed.

"Oh, look at his hair."

"Nice hair, buddy."

"What's up with the hair?"

I heard comments like these all day.

That's okay. It didn't bother me one bit. They couldn't take their eyes off me! I even tried to be extra good by just sitting there. No whining, no crying, no fussiness -- I was extra special good. Ha! It worked! They took one look at my hair and good-boy tactic, and wanted nothing but to carry me. I was passed around and around. Like a hot potatoe, but just not as fast. I even fell asleep as one of my Aunties carried me.

My Uncles were different. They didn't treat me like my Aunties. They fiddled with my belly, poked my arms and legs, and told me I was too serious.

Too serious? What's serious? I don't even know what that means! Then, they're serious!

I wonder when the next party will be.