I have two major feelings when I hear baby talk coming out of Sybil’s mouth. First, before I get into the details of those feelings, I just want to explain to you what said “baby talk” is. I will describe the moment that just happened. Like… seriously, two seconds before I opened this doc.
Sybil: Thewe are so many pweople out in town today.
Me: Yeah. Its three days before Christmas.
Sybil: It is just soooo cwazy out thewe.
Me: Yeah… it’s, you know, three days before…
Sybil: They are out thewe just shoppin and buyin all those pweasants!
Me: Well, you know Christmas… it’s like, three days away…
Sybil: I wonder what dey’re doin out dere!
Me: Something about three days from now, Christmas or something.
I have another co-worker, another older woman, who also talks Baby Talk. Watching these menopausal era women converse together is one exasperating and repulsive act of human communication. I have NO forbearance for baby talk. I have even less tolerance for Sybil.
So you see one of these major emotions I feel when I hear baby talk is disgust. ((By the way, if you have not gathered that from the above, then you are not intelligent enough to read this blog and must quit immediately. I draw a lot of my stories based on the idea that you are following along. This was a freebie.))
Anyway. The other feeling I have is elation. I am absolutely thrilled when I hear her communicate this way because it lets me know that Sybil is sane today. She is in a right mind, friendly, open to communication, and feeling good. This means several things:
1. There will be deaths by spears, tridents, shot guns, evil spells, and/or claws today. Hooray for life.
2. She is not angry at me or anyone for being nice, social people that tends to avoid including her in topics that generally would not concern her (like… social events).
3. She is not tattling on us to our boss, with whom she has a deep amount of love and stalker-ish feelings for (that’s a blog of its own), for breathing towards a cell phone or web page not pertaining to work, to win over Boss’ good graces (and undying devotion).
4. I will not have to listen to a pissed off conversation with herself, or watch her shake her head and go off at the air as she, you know… has a pissed off conversation with herself. (Yes, she actually does this. And if I didn’t have witnesses to whom I can I say, “O MY GOD, DID YOU JUST SEE THAT?” I wouldn’t believe it either.)
And so it goes. I listen to baby talk because it is for the greater good. Kind of like… I hate cranberry juice but I force myself to drink it for my urinary tract health. I force myself to listen to baby talk because with out it… I wouldn’t be able to guess just how many days I have left to live. And I really want to see True Blood Season 3, so it’s important I make it.
Speak on, Sybil…but do it… over… there…
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