My name is Amos.
This is my grandmother.
Her name is Mamie.
I can almost say it.
She thinks I can.
She loves me and worries about me as much as my mom.
I was crying in the kitchen and she kept saying, "What happened?", over and over and over.
I couldn't tell her.
That's the hardest part, my mom said as she picked me up and kissed me over and over.
I felt better when we cooked eggs.
I said, "hot, hot, hot" and said, "nana," so she helped me peel it.
She's awfully nice to me.
Good thing I'm cute.