Oy, ZP Sahib, welcome to Seven Months Old! Congrats on your two teeth; just like you, those jagged pearls are deadly but cute. Mubarak on being able to sit up unattended; no longer do we surround you by a thousand pillows to prevent you from toppling over. Mabrook on standing on your sturdy legs; if the Admiral had his way, ye'd be working on your sealegs next! Sorry for all the battles we've waged against you to get you to accept formula when your sensitive and discriminating palate insisted on the real deal. Apologies for those non-masala'd peas but I promise we'll give you the good desi-flavoring before too long. And please excuse us for all future mishaps, wars, and boredom as the winter months approach. Lastly, forgive us for taking such delight in making you look ridiculous/adorable. We love you to bits.