Hello. I am a baby. You are not a baby, so you do not know how difficult it is to be a baby. I will educate you in this blog entry so that all may know and understand. How is a baby writing, you ask? Don’t worry about it. It is beyond your comprehension, just like how you will never understand how hard it is to be a baby.
The Boob
Every day, I almost die anytime The Boob is not nearby. Being near the soft, warm embrace of The Boob is life itself. Whenever I am put down in the jumparoo (death contraption that is fun for only exactly two minutes), The Boob goes away and I am left alone. I realize I am about to meet my inevitable demise. Here is where they leave me in the woods to be eaten by ravenous wolves, with only a mother deer to keep me company! I feel that she will raise me now and that is my only hope.
Huzzah! The Boob is now back, rushing with a turkey sandwich half out of her mouth. Hmm. I believe I will grab that sandwich and try to eat it since I crave sustenance after that terrifying experience. Instead, The Boob pulls it away from me, very unfairly. I cry in anguish and frustration, my plans at obtaining sustenance foiled again.
The One Without the Boob
The One Without the Boobs comes by. “Hey, Buddy! Do you want to try to walk?” He holds my hands in a vise grip and pulls me to my feet. How dare he try to make me do anything! I will not be deceived! He pushes my tiny foot forward. I am walking! I am now one of the Big People! As I always knew, I am the smartest baby who ever lived. Future babies will write songs about this momentous occasion. The One Without the Boobs jolts me out of my reverie as he says, “Okay, I’m letting go!” and I subsequently fall to the ground. Oh no! Such a far fall shall indeed prove fatal! This is the worst thing I will ever encounter in my life! The One Without the Boobs says, “Aw, sorry, Buddy! I’ll go get you a bottle to calm you down.”
Sometimes The One Without the Boobs pretends to be The Boob with a weird object called “bottle” that is NOT THE BOOB. No one thinks it is and it will never be! This trickery only works for a few moments and then I spit up the food of deviousness. I will not be fooled by The One Without the Boobs. Only The Boob is allowed to provide me with my food, unless I choose otherwise. He snuggles me close, which sometimes is nice but again, only for about two minutes and then it’s too much snuggling.
Can You Say, Mama?
The Boob says, “Can you say, ‘Mama?’” Mama? What is this ‘Mama’? Is this some new way to manipulate me? I will not be fooled. “How about ‘Dada’?” says The One Without the Boobs. “Da-da!” he enunciates. I’m a baby, but I’m not deaf. I can hear you clearly; I choose not to say that right now. “Mama!” I say, excitedly looking at The Boob. I can tell she is pleased that I said this! I’m not sure why but I hope that perhaps this will get me more opportunities with The Boob and this possibility is very valuable to me. She snuggles me and gives me a teething biscuit. Success! I see her with my usual baby food. Ooh, this is the color of food that brings me joy. “Mama!” I say and she laughs and brings it right over. What service! Perhaps this talking situation may prove to be to my advantage.
The One Without the Boobs says, “How about ‘Dada’ now?” I laugh at him. His face contorts into a strange mixture, with his mouth going down and his face getting red. “I’m sure he’s not doing it on purpose,” says The Boob, still smiling.
“I don’t think he likes me very much,” he says. He sits by me and puts me in the high chair. Suddenly I am strapped down, powerless to resist! Motionless! Inhibited! Then he spoons the food in my mouth and I am calm. The spoon looks so interesting and must have a good mouthfeel. I will have it! I scream until he gives it to me and I put it onto my gums. I stick it too far back and I cough! What is this torture device? I find that it is again delightful as I put it back on my gums. The baby food squishes in my fingers and fat folds. I fling the food at The One Without the Boobs. Exquisite! What rapture, indeed! The Boob picks me up and puts me under the faucet. Ahhh, death is near again! After feeling that I surely would drown, I am wiped off by a soft towel with a textured mouthfeel and flavor of fabric softener.
The Boob sits me down on the carpet. I find my favorite block. I put it in my mouth and gum it for approximately three minutes, each bit of my gum becoming soothed by its superb texture on my tender gums. I then hand it to The One Without the Boobs, who is sitting on the couch. He says, “Is this for me? Thank you, that’s nice, Buddy!” I figure I owed it to him as consolation for not saying ‘Dada’ to him. Some day he may provide me with sustenance or something I can slobber on. I only drool on my favorite things, so this should be seen as a great honor to him to receive something that I enjoy so much. My slobber is extremely valuable and pleasing to everyone. Seeing him with it, though, reminds me that I love that block, so I protest until he gives it back.
The Baby Blowout
As I sit on the floor, an earth-shattering feeling comes through my body. An earthquake! A tornado! My inevitable demise is near again! A loud bubble escapes me, “PLLLRRRRP!” goes my bottom. The One Without the Boobs looks in my direction and shouts. “Oh my gosh, Buddy!” He scoops me up and I feel wetness on my bottom and back. “How does this keep happening? Sarah, do we need to move him up a size in diapers? These blowouts are unreal. Get the carpet cleaner!”
I am whisked off to the bathtub, where the one calling himself Dada puts his shirt up to cover his nose and face as he peels off my clothes and puts me sitting down in the water. He scoops a slimy liquid on me. “I’ll just put some soap on you and scrub you right up.” He hands me a small rubber animal. “Squeak, squeak!” How delightful! I squeeze the duck and splash the water. I keep splashing until The One Without the Boobs is covered in water. He grabs a towel and puts it on the floor. Perhaps this means I should throw more water on the floor? I am happy to oblige! “Oh my gosh, he’s going to ruin the laminate!”
Suddenly The Boob pulls me out of my watery fun land and onto the changing table. I am naked! It is so cold! Surely I will freeze to death! A warm towel is wrapped around me. Oh, blissful relief. But oh no! My leg escapes from the towel! It will now freeze and fall off! She rubs something on my skin. I will not be fooled! This must be another murder attempt! “I’m just trying to put lotion on so your skin doesn’t get dry. Stop it with your alligator death roll!” The coldness of everything causes a liquid to escape from me. “Alex, he’s peeing on me again!” She fastens the diaper on me and everything is somehow calm. I am thankful to be alive.
Night-Night-Time
I am beyond emotionally exhausted by this series of events. Each day provides new challenges and situations that I must overcome to survive. I was born to be a survivor and my amazing genius-level intelligence helps keep me alive day after day. “Night-night time!” says The Boob as she comes near to me and scoops me up. The Boob comforts me as I snuggle with her. Finally, the warm embrace of the womb is mine again, figuratively. I fall asleep. But no! The Boob dares to move away! Surely this is where they truly leave me in the woods to die. My only hope is to be raised as a baby deer and be taught their ways of life. Hopefully, their ways are more peaceful than the ways of this world.
I cry alone in the dark, unheard for an eternal fifteen seconds. The Boob and I repeat this approximately fifty-two times. Finally, I drift off to a deep sleep, unsure if I am in some animal’s den or in my crib. Something tells me that I am safe now, however. I dream of The Boob and of spitting up on The One Without the Boobs, as well as slobbering all over the couch. Tomorrow will be a new day!
