Chubbs McGrubbs

Dear Chubbs McGrubbs,

First off, I want you to know that I love you dearly. Ever since you came into the family, we have all been smitten with you, and you'll always hold a place in my heart. But we need to talk about why you have this new nickname.

While I've rationalized it as baby fat, the fact is that you are quickly becoming a teenager, almost an adult really, and you need to start laying off the midnight snacks (do as I say, not as I do!). It's true there is more of you to love in your slightly overweight, the-BMI-is-faulty kind of way, the truth is that I can poke your fat without you doing anything about it. Seriously, stop snacking.

While we're at it, I also have to ask you to stop waking me up in the morning. Yes, you're a morning person, I get it! But I don't appreciate the sharp pokes to the back or the lurking on my floor, waiting for my alarm to go off. Every time you hear it, you jump on the bed and I can't help but wake up. Plus, you're loud.

And speaking of loud, what's up with the crocodile tears? This is a new thing. Did you learn it from Millie? You know that crying when I pick you up for an airplane ride won't make me put you down. And you've never been a cuddly kind of gal, but would it hurt you to put up with it a little bit more?

Finally, please stop shredding the sofa. It's getting old.

Love,
Me