Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Baby talk

Author and comedian Simon Rich wrote this essay imagining the in-flight conversation between two noisy infants seated behind him.

-Wow, that was some nap.
-Tell me about it. It's almost like I was drugged or something. Hey ... what is this place?
-I'll look out the window. ... Oh my God. I think we have a situation.
-What is it? Are we at the doctor's office?
-No. We're in the sky.
-We're just, like, flying through the sky.
-Do Mom and Dad know?
-Clearly not. They're just reading like everything's normal. (Looking around) Everybody's reading.
-How do we warn them?
-With screams.
-Which kind? Soft and whiny or piercing and crazy?
-Let's go with piercing and crazy.
-It's not working. They just keep handing me bottles. As if I can eat at a time like this.
-Can you scream any louder?
-No — this is the loudest I can scream.
-Is there any other way to signal to them?
- (Sigh) I guess we could try pooping in our pants. It's not exactly dignified, but we're running out of options here.
-All right. On three?
-Sure. One, two, three.
-Well that didn't work.
-Yeah, they're just changing us.
-I can't believe this. We're hurtling through the sky in a metal tube, and yet we're the only ones screaming and pooping.
-I guess no one's looked out the window yet.
-Look at that lady down the aisle. She's so relaxed she's about to fall asleep.
-We need to wake her up.
-We need to wake everyone up.
-How much juice do you have left?
-I don't know. My voice is getting pretty hoarse. I'm pretty exhausted from all the screaming.
-Can you do the pooping thing again?
-I'm not a machine. (Sigh) Sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just stressed out.
-I don't blame you. We're about to die and no one seems to notice.
-Hey wait a minute ... look at that guy sitting in front of us, with the notepad.
-He's staring right at us.
-He must have heard us!
-Well, good. At least we got someone's attention.

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