The Kid Is Alright
Can't a baby enjoy a little time in her activity gym without you people staring at her the whole time?
I'm telling you, Mirror Baby, I don't think I've had one second of privacy since leaving the Moist Place. It's ridiculous. I was perfectly fine in there, you know. Cramped, sure, but fine. Now it's all bright lights, loud noises, and these two gibbering idiots cooing nonsense at me every time I swat at a plushy elephump or elepants or whatever that thing is.
What is it with these goons? I'm FINE! I'm not hungry, I'm not wet, and I'm not lying in whatever that stinky mushy stuff is. I'm happily playing in this cushy activity gym! But, no, that's not good enough for Creepy Smiling Lady and her lackey, apparently. It's like the only way I can get them to settle down is to be constantly reaching for the... Oh, what the heck are those called? Aminals? Animills? Aw, forget it. They shouldn't be depending on me for all their entertainment, is what I'm saying.
I mean, can't my parents stare into that flashy glow box on the wall for a while? It's not like I'm asking them to leave, you know. I just want them to pop up this activity gym, make the little bird - it is "bird," right? - play its music, and then RELAX while I explore some of these colors, textures, and sounds. Don't get me wrong, Mirror Baby, I don't mind being told I'm "perfect" and "amazing" and "so advanced," whatever that all means, but after a few minutes of Tummy Time on the bolster pillow, I just want to chill out with my prettiest friend ever.
That's you, by the way, Mirror Baby. Sigh. Even though we can't talk to each other, I feel like you really understand what I'm going through better than anyone. I hope your Ryan and Jessica... I mean, "Mom and Dad" are way cooler than mine are.