Dear Tonilyn, Greetings. Since I am now a man of the double-digits, I shall be addressing you by your full name instead of the babyish “ma-ma-ma” to which you have become accustomed. As I am […]
Greetings. Since I am now a man of the double-digits, I shall be addressing you by your full name instead of the babyish “ma-ma-ma” to which you have become accustomed. As I am now 10 months old, I shall endeavor to take this as seriously as you take checking my diaper for poop. This is why I am writing to you today. I am no longer a “baby” and would like to begin this journey by discussing a couple of issues with you:
1. The Pack and Play
Yes, I am 10 months old, and, as you have noted, full of much more awareness and understanding that comes with age. So, while I do comprehend that there are times when you need to engage in activities without me such as preparing food or washing bottles, I do not feel the need to be confined in what you term my “pack and play.” Yes, yes, you have fully explained to me that at this point I am safest in this tiny area. But, while I appreciate your concern, I have been trying to explain to you for weeks that I simply disagree. You are fully aware that I do not, as of yet, have a gym membership, so my arm strength is limited at present; I am not able to lift myself out of my confinement. And my loud protestations go unrequited. I am perfectly capable of crawling, and climbing, and eating the dirt and dog hair off the floor without your supervision. I hope you will take this under consideration the next time I deem it prudent to attempt to crawl into the unlit fire place.
What is the point of this? These little siestas are an annoyance and a total interruption of my daytime schedule of playing and playing. As I have pointed out over the course of this letter, now that I am forever lost in the double-digits of age (when counting by months, obviously) I am old enough that I should be allowed to choose when and where I sleep. Again, your explanations are heard, but as my whining and crying should suggest to you–on this subject we have reached an impasse. I am not sure what strange power you wield over me, but warm milk and the dulcet tones of your humming should only be used when I have asked … for help with … the falling … sleeping … mmmmm warm milk … bottles …Pooh Bears … zzzzzzzzz …
Oh, excuse me.
You started humming.
In summation, I urge you to relinquish your antiquated methodology in favor of a new paradigm of trust and freedom for all Double-Digiters.
Your devoted 10-month-old son