I'm going on a diet

Being a girl is hard. It means I have to watch my weight.

Yesterday I had a checkup and the nurse said I was way too skinny (about 7 kilo or 15.5 pounds - officially off the charts for my age and height.) She said I have to go on a diet of very fatty foods to fatten me up. The doctor said I should eat more yogurt and avocado but Daddy said he would take me to Burger King instead.
What was weird was that Coby also went to the doctor this week and his doctor said he needed to LOSE weight! Hmmm...I wonder if the two things are related?

Just to spite the doctor (or, as Daddy would say, to be "davka"), I'm going on a hunger strike. I won't eat anything but fruit and Mommy's milk. I was eating nicely before, but if the doctor says I wasn't, I'll show her! Sometimes I eat breakfast with Daddy, but Mommy's getting fed up because I won't touch anything she gives me (except to throw it on the floor).

Today Daddy saw a guy he knows named Bibi in the elevator and showed him a picture of me. Bibi said I look beautiful. Daddy said Bibi thinks he's never been wrong about anything, so I must be doing something right.

On Sunday, I think I fell in love. I went with Mommy and Daddy to a place called the dentist's office and they had a big glass wall. There was a beautiful baby in the wall and whatever I did the baby did too. I gave the baby five kisses on the mouth while Daddy for some reason laughed hysterically.

The dentist looked in my mouth and said I'm not getting any teeth for at least a few more months. I guess I'm going to have to come up with a new excuse for everything now that they know I'm not teething. (Although they say that technically a baby is teething from birth until all her teeth come in). At my well-baby visit a dental student said that I'll probably get teeth sometime between when Mommy got her first teeth and when Daddy got his. Mommy got her bottom two at 7.5 months and her top two at 14 months but Yaya doesn't know when Daddy got his.

Sunday was also my first Father's Day. It was Daddy's first, too. I wrote him a poem on a card and gave it to him. But I don't think he liked it, because it made him cry.

Here's the poem:

Thanks for taking me (and Coby) for walks
and all the father-daughter talks.
For swimming with me in the pool
and dressing me so I look cool
Thanks for feeding me my first chicken soup,
thanks for cleaning up my stinky poop.
Thanks for all the special things you do.
Thank you, Daddy, for being you!