Check-Up Time

So, as of today I am one week old. Can you believe it? I feel so old. Mom and Dad took me in for a check-up, and it was OK - not as bad as when Daddy has to get the old Second-Knuckle Handshake at age 40, anyway. I got good marks in all my subjects... top 90% in weight (a lady-like 9 lb, 1 oz, if you must know), top 75% in height (20 3/4 inches) and top 99% in cute (or so they tell me). And since I am back to my birthweight, the doctor said that Mom and Dad don't have to wake me up to feed me during the night. THANK GOD. I know they meant well, but talk about annoying. Everytime I would get some good sack-time going, I hear "Claire, wake up, it's time to eat". I just wanted to say, "look, I appreciate what you are doing, believe me, but when I am hungary, I'll let you know." Those two must be insomniacs, because they seem to be up all night. Oh well, not my problem anymore. They can go wake the cat.