This is my ball popper. I love it now, but I used to be afraid of it. When I get up in the morning (after I watch my Sesame Street DVD), I stand in front of it and grunt until Momma flips the switch in the back to turn it on.
Sometimes I like to just stand over it and let it blow my hair. Sometimes I like to put a big string of slobber on it. Sometimes I like to take the balls out and run around with them, hand them to Momma or Daddy and then take them back, or throw them over the baby gate or into a plate of bananas.
I get frustrated when it stops working because I put other things down the pipe like Easter eggs or elephants. But then I just start grunting again and Momma comes to the rescue.
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