Why does everyone keep talking in that high-pitched voice whenever they see me? I’m not deaf!
Dear Wallaby,
I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Bobby, and I am a resident of the crib in the corner of the living room. I am writing to you today to bring to light an issue that has been plaguing my existence for the past few months.
You see, Wallaby, I am surrounded by giants. Giants who, for some inexplicable reason, believe that the only way to communicate with me is through a series of high-pitched coos and squeals. It’s as if they’ve forgotten the art of normal conversation and have resorted to mimicking the sounds of a distressed seagull. No joke.
Every day, I am subjected to a symphony of squeaky voices that would put even the most patient of souls to the test. “Who’s a cute little baby?” they ask, their voices reaching pitches that I’m sure only dogs can hear. “Goo goo gaga,” they continue, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I have no idea what that means.
I’ve tried to communicate my displeasure, Wallaby. I’ve frowned, I’ve cried, I’ve even thrown my rattle in protest. But alas, my efforts have been in vain. They simply chuckle, pat my head, and continue their high-pitched tirade.
I understand that they mean well, Wallaby. They believe that these squeaky voices are comforting, that they somehow bridge the gap between our worlds. But let me assure you, they do not. If anything, they only serve to widen the chasm.
I long for the day when I can have a normal conversation. When I can discuss the complexities of the mobile hanging above my crib or debate the merits of pureed peas versus carrots. But until that day comes, I remain at the mercy of the squeaky voices.
So, I implore you, Wallaby, to use your platform to bring about change. Let the giants know that we, the residents of the cribs, are more than just cute faces. We are thinkers, dreamers, and, given the chance, great conversationalists.
Thank you for your time, Wallaby. I look forward to a future where the squeaky voices are a thing of the past.
Yours sincerely, Bobby.
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