You can almost crawl and you can sit up by yourself.
You've got three teeth that we brush every morning and every night.
You can eat lumpy food, but you're not very fond of jelly.
You can fall off the side of our big bed (and give me a heart attack), but manage to escape injury.
You know who mummy, daddy, and doggy are.
You like pausing after a long drink of milk to give the bottle a little shake.
You always smile when I look at you, without fail.
You are the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me.
Happy eight month birthday, Jack-Jack.
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