Real Talk

Mommy and I talk. But we can't understand each other.

You see, although I'm able to type this blog, I'm not able to form words with my mouth and voicebox. Until recently, all I could do with my mouth was smile, suck on boobs and stick my tongue out, and the best noise I could do is cry. But it's crying in the form of communication. It's a working arrangement.

But recently, I've been able to make noises that aren't cries. Some call them coos. Some call them caws. I don't care what you call it. It might not make sense to you, but just know that I'm trying.

But what Mommy doesn't realize is that, although what's coming out of myself isn't making any sense, I can understand her. So when she baby talks back to me, it doesn't work. And that leads me to make harsh decisions.

For example, here's a conversation from today:

ME: "Baa Baa Boo Baa Waa." (translation: "I like how you smell today, Mommy. What perfume are you wearing?")

MOMMY: "Boojie Boojie Boola Woo Wee Woo."

ME: "Ooowaa Hulla Hulla." (translation: "I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

MOMMY: "Nova Noochie Noochie New!"

ME: "Oooowie! Ooowie! Waa!" (translation: "Please speak English back to me. I have no idea what you're saying."

MOMMY: "Pookie Poo!"

ME: "Bee! Beeya!" (translation: "You're making fun of me. Is that what this is about?"

MOMMY: "Pookie Boo! Noochie Boola!"

ME: "Hulla Woo Wee Woo!" (translation: "I'm ending this conversation if you can't give me a serious answer.")

MOMMY: "Tootie Woola Woo!"

And that led me to stare at the brightest lights around, because at least I'll get some sort of simulation from that.

So, as you can see, as much as I love talking to Mommy, she leaves me no other option than to burn my retinas.