Momma carried me into the kitchen and sat me down in the high chair she had bought. It was constructed from molded plastic and looked about as comfortable as a cheap molded garden chair. The designers had gotten this one right though, the dimensions were perfect for a body my size and the ample padding cradled my bottom happily. She snapped a plastic bib around my neck and left me in the chair while she went to the pantry. I looked at the disgusting thing she had fastened around my neck; multicolored stains of some unidentifiable puréed food were streaked down the front of the bib. When in glanced down into the hard plastic pocket at the bottom, I saw small mounds of what appeared to be baby food in the bottom. Evidently Gino had used this bib before me.

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