Tuesday, October 7, 2008

"All adults do is eat!"

"Hello. This is Sonny. My parents spend a lot of time bashing away at this computer (and ignoring me, as if I wouldn't notice it), so I am going to give it a try too while they are away at work. They seem to think that people are actually reading their thoughts regarding me, though no one ever asks for my feedback. Manifestly unfair: I may only be five months and two weeks old, but I ought to be consulted.

"So let me tell you, readers of my parents' blog, what irks me most about living with 'Mum' and 'Pa' (I'll tell you a secret: They have proper names too, just like mine isn't really 'Sonny'). These parents of mine are pigs. I know from the Farmhouse books they read to me that pigs have curly tails, which my parents don't display. But pigs are also said to be very fond of eating, and let me tell you, my parents are really into that.

"They have three square sit-down meals, during which they polish off a confusing mix of different objects of inconsistent colours and shapes and smells. Horrible. My parents are also always snacking. Even late at night, when Pa gets home from work, the two of them will sit down and snaffle biscuits and drink that nasty concoction called 'coffee'. Give me milk any day. Actually, I do get milk every day. But anyway, whenever my parents eat, they will go through this silly ritual exchange: First, Pa will say, "You are eating as much as me these days". Then Mum will look very defensive and say, 'Well, I am eating for two now". I'm not sure what it means, but she will look at me briefly when she says that. Let me tell you, if I ate even half as much as either of them did, I am sure I would burst. My parents seem to think that I am going to be their size some day and be as greedy as them, but I find this very hard to believe. I don't want to believe it. I'm quite happy as I am, thank you. I'm comfortable with my body.

"All I drink is milk. Well, that is not quite right, since Mum has recently been feeding me a few mouthfuls of cereal (not directly from her mouth, but using a 'spoon'). The adults made a big deal of my consuming it and seem to think it was a major occasion. I am surprised they did not put up balloons and have a party. Parents just don't make much sense: The cereal was mixed in milk, and was so diluted it was almost milky. So what was the big deal? Now, if they had tried to feed me one of those chicken drumsticks, I would have shown them how well I can wriggle and choke. They think I can sometimes be what they call 'a handful' (which is also ridiculous since I am a lot bigger than anyone's hand, unless there are some giant adults around somewhere that I haven't met), but I've been going easy on them. They are quite useful to have around, after all. I can't seem to be able to move around very well on my own.

"Anyway, I am sure adults do other more productive things too. Besides eat, that is. And talk. Maybe I'll tell you about my discoveries by and by. Thank you for your attention. You may go and eat some more now."

Yours sincerely,