"Clothes"

What's the deal with clothes? I did just fine without them for nine months and then the first thing the people in the hospital did was put clothes on me. Mommy does the same thing. I just don't get it.

Admittedly, sometimes I'm pretty cold and then I don't mind being put in a fuzzy thing or two, but even when it's hot my parents insist on putting me in these outfits. I tried pooping on them, hoping they'd get the idea, but Mommy just washes them and puts them back on me again.

Some clothes aren't so bad, though. In this picture, for example, I really like the dark thing I'm wearing (I think my Uncle Matt and Aunt Buffy sent it, but I'm not sure who they are yet). It has stuff on it that I don't understand, but everyone laughs when they see it, so it must be a good thing. But the lighter part on my legs (Mommy calls them "Pants") look terrible with it! As you can see, I tried to express my displeasure at Mommy's poor taste, but my opinion doesn't hold much weight. Parents really cramp your style sometimes. At least they didn't put a hat on me (more on hats later).