Dear Baby Boy J,
A few things...
Can you please move into the downstairs apartment so that I have a shot at catching my breath? Every time the phone rings, the caller remarks "did I catch you exercising?" and I have to explain that no, I'm just walking around my house trying to breath like a normal person and I didn't just finish a marathon. I could really use your help.
Also, if it's not too much trouble, could you kindly stop kicking my stomach every time an ounce of food enters it? Food is great going down. Not so much with the coming up. Thanks.
Finally, could you schedule your hiccups to occur sometime during normal business hours rather than when the office is closed? I could use a little sleep.
Oh, and I love you.