Armless Baby is so, so futile.

Some days I feel like an armless baby on a dirty carpeted floor. I'm not sad because my rattle is missing or because my bottle is empty -- I'm sad because everything I want is complete and beautiful and immediately in front of me and entirely out of reach.

My warm bottle is there, but I have no hope of getting it anywhere near my mouth. My teddy bear cries for love but I am unable to comfort him. I can't even swat flies away from my stupid baby face or suck my thumb.

I have no thumb. And my dirty diaper is quickly forming a rash on my delicate, white, stinky bottom.

Anyway, today is not one of those days. Today, I feel like I have all the baby arms in the world, but I still thought I would finish and post this illustration that I started yesterday when I was feeling a little less armful.