What my three-month-old daughter wishes she could say to me:
For the love of all that is tiny, woman, would you let me be?! Stop performing these horrific procedures that compromise my dignity, such at trimming my nails and cleaning my ears. Do you not realize that I came from Heaven exactly the way I’m supposed to be? Your tireless efforts to customize and improve me are fruitless and unappreciated. Until I feel you’ve learned to accept me for who I am, earwax and all, I will continue with our recent trend of 4 am wake-up calls. I trust that soon you will either come to accept my terms, or collapse from exhaustion. In either case, I will at last be free of your constant fussing and able to practice my pterodactyl call without interruption. In the meantime, keep calm and lactate on.