My Concierge Service Curtailed – Please Help

You have to help me. I am in a panic. There is talk – yet unconfirmed – that my parents are planning to end the unlimited concierge service that I’ve been enjoying for three months. 

I’ve been getting their highest-level package: room, board, entertainment, and on-demand attention at any hour on any day. I hear them talking about cutting back on the hours of service and expecting me to take naps. Naps! WTF!

What should I do to stop this? I need your help. I was thinking about a Kickstarter. If I were to offer them say, a crowdfunded $10,000, would they keep taking care of me whenever I made a peep at any time of the day or night? Until I figure out how to use a computer, I have launched an action plan: Crying my head off.

Unfortunately, my plan has a flaw. My dad. It does no good to cry for him. He just doesn’t go for it.

He says in a boring, matter of fact voice, ‘Babies take naps. You’re going to take a nap now.’ You know what? I can’t help myself, but I totally buy it. It’s worth a whimper or two, but then I nod right off. Why bother performing for an unappreciative audience?  But my mom, oh, it’s really worth it to cry for her. I can let loose with an adagio worthy of an opera singer – I think I have like, a thrilling ten octave range. I can keep the volume turned up to 11, raging on and on in an Oscar-worthy performance of abandonment, grief and betrayal. I’ve been studying videos of Al Pacino to see how he does it. Not on an ego trip here, but I really think I’m on the top of my game with my mom.

She will pat me and sympathize with me at any hour, and when I am breastfeeding, I don’t let her talk to anybody. She’s all mine. She can’t text or email when I am close by. It’s all me, baby. On the other hand, my dad will keep me awake when he wants me to be awake, and ask me to sleep when it is time to sleep. Some silly nonsense about ‘exhaustion’ and ‘three months of this is enough’ and ‘the baby looks as tired we are.’

What a load of – oh. Wait. Did I fall asleep there? That’s been happening lately. I get unexplainably cranky. My eyes close in the middle of a thought. This, I assure you, has nothing to do with erratic sleep patterns. It’s sunspots. My parents just need to get me an amber crystal or something to fix it right up.

So please help me. Give me some ideas about how I can get these people to keep up the level of service they’ve committed to forever. I demand the 24/7 concierge service that is the right of every baby. We probably have a signed contract here, if only I can find it.

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