Day 84 outside of the womb:
I'm being tortured.
Recently, the people who hold me, change my diapers, and feed me most often - for all intents and purposes, we will call them "Mom" and "Dad," respectively - have begun to touch me and wiggle me in ways that produce the most exhilarating sensations. In particular, these feelings occur when they wiggle my thighs, my chins, and my ribs. It causes me to make a funny noise, quite against my will, which the big people seem to like very much - they have tended to get big, silly grins and raise their voices to higher pitches in response to my involuntary sonance. They look rather ridiculous, to tell you the truth.
Sometimes the woman with curly hair that the Mom calls "Nana" and the man who can take his eyes on and off that the Dad calls "Grandpa" will also attempt to make me expostulate in this manner; sometimes I can withstand it, sometimes I can't. It seems to me that it is a rather tortuous way to finally get attention from these people.
On a similar note, the Mom keeps mentioning "auditions." I have a horrible premonition that she is going to shape up to be the worst sort of stage mother. Until then, I'll just have to figure out a way to get my infantile hands to open up long enough (and stay out of my mouth long enough) to play Chopin. Who the Mom tells me about all the time.
EGW
Endnote: If you ever need to relax, may I highly recommend the fist-in-mouth method. I mentioned it before, but really, I just can't get enough of it. It's a great substitute for if the milk orb isn't available.
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