She only asked Santa for a cure for hiccups….Grammy needs a little more. Our Peanut has colic. It breaks my heart to hear her cry so pitifully…
A cure for colic is all I want for Christmas.
Ya hear that Santa???? A remedy to make my precious Avery’s tummy feel better. That’s it, that’s all I want.
We’ve switched her formula, we’ve tried feeding her smaller, more frequent feedings. I swear I should be getting stock options for the amount of “Little Tummies Gripe Water” that’s been purchased in this house….we swaddle, we cuddle, we rock, we bounce. We rub her little tummy. She finally falls asleep and then awakens with a cry of pain.
Grammy’s heart cries a little…
I have no interest in a new car. Could not care less about diamonds or the latest and greatest smart phone.
A cure for colic Santa. Just a small thing. Miniscule really….for a guy with your powers it should be a piece of cake.
I WANT IT. GIMME.
New clothes? Nah. A coach purse? Pass.
When she feels good, she is so sweet and playful and makes my heart sing with joy. Bless her baby heart, those times are fleeting. And then she’s once again racked with pain.
Hey, are you listening Nick??? My Peanut needs a cure. You do it. YOU DO IT RIGHT NOW!
I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE….GIMME.
I have no need for fancy schmancy new appliances. No shiny, fabulous KitchenAid stand mixer for me.
I want my Grandbaby to feel better.
It’s less than two weeks til Christmas Dude, should be plenty of time for guy with your klout to pull it off. Pay the elves some overtime or something. Ask Mother Nature and the Easter Bunny for help if you have to. Just do it.
YOU GIMME OR I’M SPITTING ON YOUR COOKIES. AND I’LL POOP IN YOUR DRIVEWAY.
I hate to have to go all Mob-bossy on ya, but I’m desperate….I would only resort to threats because of my desperation. You get that right?? It’s not personal….
Ok Big Guy?? Glad we had this talk…