I'm awake. I don't want to be awake. That's it. I'm unhappy. Time to let everyone know it.
I let out a shrill cry, knowing I'll get attention and someone will fix this. Sure enough, I'm only starting to sob when someone picks me up. I have trained them well. It's my mother who's holding me. I don't even have to open my eyes to know that. Everyone holds me different. There are a lot of people, but I have them sorted out. I definitely know my mother.
I can't figure out what she's saying, but I know it's about me. No, to me. I do know my name, and I heard her say it. Might as well give her a break. She sounds sincere. I stop crying.
I open my eyes, looking around at who else is here. It's just me, my mother... I recognize my father (I know him, too) and that big guy. I like him, too. That's better. I like knowing what's going on around me.
My mother changes how she's holding me, but I like the other way better. I start fussing, squirming around, trying to get her to put me back in that position. She doesn't budge this time.
In fact, she moves me again, and I know I'm *moving*. No, she's putting me back in my sleeping place! I am not going to get back to sleep in there, they should know this by now!
She gets the point when I start whimpering. I don't end up in the sleeping place. Instead, she hands me off to my father. He'll do just fine. I start to get comfortable, and I can see my mother leave the room. Now, I could start crying again but I'm too tired. I know she's coming back. Besides, I've got my father here. And he lets me do anything.
I close my eyes again, trying to get back to sleep. At least until the next time someone wakes me up...
I let out a shrill cry, knowing I'll get attention and someone will fix this. Sure enough, I'm only starting to sob when someone picks me up. I have trained them well. It's my mother who's holding me. I don't even have to open my eyes to know that. Everyone holds me different. There are a lot of people, but I have them sorted out. I definitely know my mother.
I can't figure out what she's saying, but I know it's about me. No, to me. I do know my name, and I heard her say it. Might as well give her a break. She sounds sincere. I stop crying.
I open my eyes, looking around at who else is here. It's just me, my mother... I recognize my father (I know him, too) and that big guy. I like him, too. That's better. I like knowing what's going on around me.
My mother changes how she's holding me, but I like the other way better. I start fussing, squirming around, trying to get her to put me back in that position. She doesn't budge this time.
In fact, she moves me again, and I know I'm *moving*. No, she's putting me back in my sleeping place! I am not going to get back to sleep in there, they should know this by now!
She gets the point when I start whimpering. I don't end up in the sleeping place. Instead, she hands me off to my father. He'll do just fine. I start to get comfortable, and I can see my mother leave the room. Now, I could start crying again but I'm too tired. I know she's coming back. Besides, I've got my father here. And he lets me do anything.
I close my eyes again, trying to get back to sleep. At least until the next time someone wakes me up...