So Mom strapped me to her chest using this thing that's like a T-shirt except long enough to wrap around Jabba the Hut (twice).
That's me, in there.
For the last week, I've only been willing to nap after lunch if I get strapped in this way. I'm kind of high-maintenance, if you hadn't noticed. I also require classical music, gourmet milk, and a great deal of personal attention in the hygiene department. I don't pay too well, but so far I'm satisfied with the service I'm receiving.