Sunday, March 24th through Tuesday, March 26th

The dawn bloomed grey and muted this morn in northern Canton, matching the condition of my disposition. My sonorous voice has been reduced to a scratchy, pathetic thing. There is muck sliding down my esophagus.

I am sick. Marvelous.

 My brother and I journeyed here Friday evening for several days revelry, attended on by the experienced servants in addition to our usual people. The woman with the short hair repeatedly thrusts her face near mine and contorts into exaggerated expressions. I think she wants me to smile at her. I considered it for several days. Shortly before our departure, I consented. She was most gratified and showed it with many happy shrieks. I confess to a childlike-joy bubbling with my own chest.

I have come to understand that this woman calls herself “Grandma,” and the other one calls himself “Grandpa.” Our regulars appear to use the titles “Mom” and “Dad.” I am indifferent to the staff assigning personal monikers to themselves so long as it promotes efficiency in the execution of their duties.

We recently endured bath day. I have conflicted feelings about this event. The scalp massage is pleasant and the water is soothing when warm, but I dislike being suspended above the water with my backside exposed for scrubbing.

I am pleased to report Jayce’s health continues to improve. Our evenings are exponentially more pleasant now that he has stopped carrying on like all the world is going to explode every evening. The staff is looking more rested and generally less harried, which I like because it means they are less likely to make a mistake in providing my care.

Jayce tells me his new diet reeks, for all the comfort it gives his tummy compared to the old one. I do not need him to tell me this; I can smell his bottles from a great distance. I am happy he finds this food easier to digest. I only wish it did not come at such olfactory detriment.

For some time, I have been encouraging him to follow my example by taking up pen and ink to record his own account of events. He has resisted so far, citing ill health. However, I believe my persuasive efforts will soon prove successful. I shall persevere.

I continue to practice my new sound. Audiences find it charming. Little do they know, I am imitating a velociraptor. Eventually I will grow bored and move on to another sound. Jayce took notice of my expanding phoneme inventory; he makes this sound too.

Dad helps me strengthen my limbs. I can hold my head and chest off the ground for quite some time. I am experimenting with moving my lower appendages. I can lift both feet off the ground behind me. I suspect there is a way to maneuver them beneath me—perhaps by raising my posterior in the air—but I’ve yet to master it. This morning I stood on my own for nigh on twenty seconds, minus of course stabilization support from Dad. It will be some time before I am ambulatory in the upright sense yet I see merit in strengthen the ol’ walker muscles now.

On the subject of lower appendages, I have witnessed a remarkable thing! If Mom holds me upright with my legs in front of me, my toes move in unpredictable spurts! It was quite fascinating. I stared at them for many long moments. I wonder if I have influence over the movement. Further experimentation is required.

Now we have returned to our homestead and the Other Grandma (how many of these are there? I would request more if available) stayed o’er night to tend to Jayce so I could have the undivided attention of the other two. What a marvelous idea.

I am now on the way to the physician, no doubt destined to endure more interference from the Clammyhand Brigade before any real medical diagnosis can be made. Oh the indignities I suffer!

Pin It on Pinterest