Memoirs of a one year old - Chapter 1

Memoirs of a one year old - Chapter 1
14 July 2013

Having just turned the ripe old age of one, I thought that it was best that I record my memoirs, before all vestiges of my language leave me altogether.  Already I am seeing lapses in my vocal abilities, as I'm slumping more and more into the supposedly "advanced" language the Tall-Nervous-Cautious ones use – for short I’ve decided to call them TNC’s.

Perhaps it is best that I start at the very beginning:  My initial home was particularly comfortable and I revelled in the room service 24/7.  Having food and drink on tap, or rather on chord, was fantastic.  Service was fast, efficient, and the waiting staff required no tipping.  And the mother ship was most accommodating.  I did however have to school her on what I didn't like rather forcibly and hence she stayed away from podgy veggies and stewing meats at my insistence.  I fact thanks to me, they made her turn green.  I find it is good to set these ground rules from the beginning.  They adapt far quicker and show less resistance, if you educate them from the start.  Consistency is key.

Moving day out of my first home, was a rather long and arduous journey.  Though it had to be done, as my digs were getting a bit cramped.  I had a bit of fears as to whether there would be life after birth, but luckily these fears were unfounded.  I decided to pack lightly and shrug off my mortal coil.  Or as some might choose to call it, my amniotic sac.  Though I must confess that I was worried I might get a bit homesick and thought it best that I brought a keepsake with me, to remind me of my erstwhile home in years to come.  I decided to keep a bit of the chord and have it firmly tied in a bow on my belly, so every time I looked down, I’d remember that watery world.  I held firm in my belief that there would indeed be life on the other side.  And so I followed the light.

The portal was rather narrow and I felt ever so slightly claustrophobic.  Still I soldiered, or rather shouldered, on.  Once the decision was made, there was no turning back.

Man, oh man!  What a reception on the other side!  It was all "camera, lights, action".  Huge fan fair.  And I had my very first taste of life in the spotlight.  Those paparazzo’s are intense.  Never mind that.  Two complete sets of tests within the first ten minutes of my arrival!  No advance warning.  No time to revise, study or even cram for that matter.  Still, naturally I passed both tests with flying colours.  Hardly surprising, I suppose.  I did find it rather odd though that I had to do the exact same test twice in a row.  They never even bothered to shake it up a bit and change the questionnaire.  Still who am I to complain?  I had mistakenly anticipated a party on the other side, with some hoopla, maybe even a cake.  And hence the test thing was a bit of a downer.  But I think it’s best that I just go with the flow, and suss out the scene.

Rather surprising to see the size of the people or TNC’s here.  How did they get so big?

I find the language barrier quite intense and a bit of a problem.  Still, I will try and school them in my ways.  Alternatively I will look upon this as a cultural exchange and attempt to broaden my horizons by trying to make sense of their primitive and guttural language.  However, far be it from me to just take and give nothing back.  I am a firm believer in sharing my knowledge and will hence forth share more and more of my language with them too.

From the start I thought it best to try and gently let them adjust to my language.  Though I did find them alarmingly dense, obtuse and hard to teach.  The language barrier would clearly be a tough bridge to cross.  And subsequently I have found that the best method to overcome this, is to give true freedom to my entire vocal range - particularly the very high pitched squeal-cry.  Super effective.  And to accompany these efforts with awesome facial expressions and body language too, increases my odds of making them understand me.  It is important to assess everything at your disposal, utilise all in your arsenal, and use them to their fullest potential.  To harness their abilities to ensure that your meaning is fully comprehended.

Let me tell you, the first six weeks was a battle.  I kept on asking for food and drink on chord again – day and night.  To no avail.  In fact the waitress was particularly grumpy during the dark hours.  I’m assuming she’s not nocturnal?  I was also missing the comfy cosiness of the Jacuzzi in my first home.  And despite using the full range and spectrum of a combo of my awesome vocal chords, facial expressions, and body language, all I got for my efforts was milk.  Always the milk with the TNC’s.  They think it's the answer to everything. 

Though they did eventually become more proficient in my lingo and even attempted to communicate back with me.  To my amusement they sound rather silly when they do it and get it all jumbled up.  But eventually after a draining period of six weeks, I decided to reward them for their efforts as I could sense they were close to breaking point.  At this point I pulled out my trump card - I smiled at them.  They are such saps!  Works like a charm and I have filed this knowledge away for future reference and use.  Clearly being cute is the way to manipulate them.

Please tune in again tomorrow, for Chapter 2 – more about mobility, manipulation and bowel movements.

Click and Like on Facebook