What Babies Might Think

I spent a few good hours with my cute one-year-old cousin today, which inspired this post. It makes a lot of ridiculous assumptions such as babies having a very good vocabulary, but I hope you can find reason hidden somewhere among the words.


‘Put me down!’ I felt like screaming as I squirmed restlessly against the body of the stranger who picked me up unexpectedly, snatching me away from my mother. I looked at her in panic, but she was still smiling serenely, as if nothing was wrong. “I see that you have mother’s approval, strange man,” I tried to say, but it came out as a high pitched shriek and unintelligible syllables.

He whispered something to my mother and she laughed, her eyes crinkling around the corners. This one was genuine so I should trust this fellow, my gut said. He pressed his face closer, his beard making my skin itch – the sign of affection that I’ve come to expect from these big folk that makes me uncomfortable, but it feels warm, so I tolerate it. He pointed at something, vying for my attention, but the fan in the near corner was much more interesting. Its ever-spinning blades entranced me. I heard a honk just then, coming from outside the open window.

“Take me there!” I ordered, extending my hand, picturing the grills as I clenched my fist, grasping at thin air. The man did not understand. I wailed to make my point clearer. The slow human finally comprehended. He shifted my weight onto his other hand and took me there, mumbling something in my ear constantly. I suppose he was trying to be sweet. It irked me. That shiny blue car glinting in the sunlight dominated my vision and grew bigger as I drew closer to the window.

“Zoom.” I tried mimicking the bike that created a whirlwind of noise, but it just evaporated from the edge of my vision. Suddenly, I felt thirsty.

“Ma,” I called out. It wasn’t loud, but it came out exactly the way it had sounded in my head. The man did not need a second prompt. He walked over and handed me to my mother instantly. As I sipped water from the cool new red bottle that I was still getting used to, the next stranger approached, making silly faces at me.

“Go away,” I groaned, but in the language only I understood. The sipper was pulled away all too soon and I was passed into their waiting arms. I mentally prepared myself for another exhausting conversation with the new creature, praying for more captivating distractions to prolong my patience.

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