You need a haircut.
You have tan lines.
You prefer to walk, shunning your knees, the stroller, and the grocery cart seat.
You chirp merrily in your own tongue incorporating a smattering of English phrases like "hey-wo, dada" (said into any object held to the ear like a phone).
You have definite preferences and are not shy in voicing them.
You laugh heartily, especially at Jenny's antics.
You eat all sorts of foods and are willing to try anything. You love cherries and blueberries, and, alas, your siblings have already taught you about chocolate.
You dislike the high chair preferring to stand.
You can just reach things on the kitchen table and things overhanging the kitchen counters. You cannot be left alone in this room.
You know exactly where the toilet paper is in every bathroom and enjoy unrolling it.
You have, in your mind, mastered the stairs enough that you are no longer obsessed with climbing them. Your current project is climbing chairs or step stools to discover new fun things previously out of reach.
You are no longer a baby. Welcome to toddlerhood.
Happy birthday, Peter Damian.