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I'm ten now.
Four days ago i turned ten years old. My sister, Miss Zithead Smellyfeet, gave me a book titled Yellow Eyes about a young cougar and all it goes through as it grows up in the wild. I don't live in the wild and I'm not a cougar and Yellow Eyes never had a sister who was such a huge pain in the behind as mine, but I really enjoyed reading this book.

I enjoyed it almost as much as the new hockey stick and pads Mom and Dad gave me last year, but not as much as the remote control airplane Dad's friend Gill gave me. I want to make a bomb full of dog poop to drop on my sister and her boyfriend from my new plane. Maybe that would be mean, though. I'll think about it.

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