Mommy and Daddy have been falling woefully behind in their housekeeping duties. I don't understand what they find so difficult about these simple tasks, but I have decided to step up and be the change I want to see.

I discovered that when I place dirty objects into my mouth, they come out with a delightful glossy shine. Not only does this work with common household items, but it is also effective on clothing and skin. At first I started small, just spot treating my clothes or Mommy and Daddy, but after seeing the results, I've been inspired to take on the whole house.

This ambition has been complicated, as is so often the case, by the parents. It almost seems as if they don't want me to clean things up around here. They try to keep me away from the objects that need my help, but this has only served to enhance my creativity. I have discovered that, with careful aim, I can clean many items throughout the house. Mommy and Daddy, seeing my example, will often grab a rag and join in the cleaning. The house has never looked so good.

Something about having a baby in the house brings back memories of growing up. I suspect my brain is trying to warn me about what lies ahead. This morning an episode came to mind that caused me, yet again, to realize just how weird raising a child will be.

It was a crazy Wednesday evening, as was so often the case. There was some sort of church activity that we needed to attend. Everyone was in the van ready to go, except for my youngest brother, who was dragging his feet. My mother, in her favorite teaching style, decided to give him an object lesson, and drove off without him. Now this was only a ruse. We drove around the block and came right back to the house, certain that he would be suitably chastened for his tardiness.

Instead, we discovered the house abandoned. We searched high and low, but there was no sign of him. He was only a young teen at the time, and didn't have a driver's license yet, so we knew he couldn't have gotten very far, yet he was nowhere to be found.

After about ten minutes the telephone rang. It was someone from our church. My little brother was there, and looking for us. He had set out on his own, determined to follow our supposed course. Unfortunately, he had severely underestimated the length of the trip. Fortunately for him, a family friend saw his trek and offered him a ride. And that is how, by being late, my brother got to the church first.

An Explanation:

The other day I downloaded a database table, with a ridiculous number of columns, as a CSV spreadsheet. I wanted to write a program to isolate and clean up a couple of its columns. To do this I needed to know the column numbers. For example, that "About Me" is the 78th column. When I opened up the spreadsheet in LibreOffice I didn't find the column number. Instead, the columns had names like "AG" and "BN". I get why it makes sense to use numbers for rows and letters for columns, but I can't easily tell a program to get the AOth element of an array.

I did a web search to see if someone had a nice converter online that would tell me which number to use for the column names, but my search turned up nothing. I hope to correct that for future searchers of the internet. Enjoy.

P.S. - This converter is also handy if you want to know the position of various letters in the alphabet. Just replace the word "column" with the word "letter".

By this point I suppose I shouldn't be surprised anymore. Mommy and Daddy just don't understand some basic things about life yet, and I can't be mad at them for that. These things take time, after all. Still, I find their current behavior puzzling. I can be resting peacefully and all of a sudden one of them will declare "tummy time."

They'll place me on my playmat and watch as I flail about. They get really excited whenever I push myself around the mat. I don't like to ruin their fun, but I can't help wondering if there is something wrong with their brains. I mean, hello, if I wanted to go somewhere I'd have one of them carry me. I can't be subjected to the indignity of crawling around using my own limbs. What would the other babies think?

I've been here for almost two months now, and I think Mommy and Daddy are starting to get to me. When they started using the hypnotizer on me I didn't realize just what they had done. Yes, it seemed like a nasty trick, but then the hypnotizer was gone again and things returned to normal. A few nights later, Mommy and Daddy tried the same trick again. I tried to humor them. After all, they're only parents.

But when they tried it a third time, I had to draw the line. I spit out the hypnotizer and let them know exactly what I thought about their behavior. That's when it started. My mouth started sucking, even though I didn't have the hypnotizer anymore. Soon all I could think about was having the hypnotizer back. I couldn't rest until it was returned to me.

It kept getting worse and worse. Even during the day I'd find my jaw moving on its own. At night I lay awake, thinking about the hypnotizer. I can't sleep without anymore. Just being laid down brings thoughts of it to my mind. I have to admit the facts. I have an addiction. Do any babies out there know of a good recovery group?

Lately I've seen some encouraging signs. Not from Mommy and Daddy, of course. They're still as hopeless as ever, but other parents came to visit. They didn't bring their baby with them, which is a shame because I'd really like to meet her. She did a great job of training them. Unlike the parents I have to work with, these parents actually know how to behave themselves.

None of this wandering off to do things when I require their attention. No refusing to bounce me or give me rides around the house. Certainly no using the hypnotizer to shut me up. Oh no, these parents actually know what they're doing. They know exactly how to hold me. They listen to me and give me plenty of compliments. It's feels so good to be in the hands of professionals. I hope Mommy and Daddy are paying attention.

You all know about the trouble I've had with the parents lately. At times I wonder if it's even worth sticking with it. They seem downright untrainable. I know I shouldn't be too hard on them. They're not very bright and, honestly, just about completely helpless. It would be wrong to abandon them. Who knows what they'd do on their own? I just need to try a different approach.

Given all of the shenanigans that they have pulled recently, I need to let them know that I'm still here for them. Of course, I have to keep things simple. Mommy and Daddy aren't at a level where I can really deal with them as equals. I decided to encourage a bit of team spirit with a few games. To keep it at the parents' level I chose guessing games that even they can grasp. Games like "Guess if I'm asleep", "Guess if the diaper will hold", and "Guess what I really want." Mommy and Daddy are actually pretty bad at these games, but I give them credit for trying. If they continue showing this much enthusiasm, I may finally be able to get them on the right track.

The location of the Monster Patrol headquarters was an especially well-guarded secret, even in a city known for its secrets. The helicopter carrying James descended on the rooftop of a nearby office building. In the back, Greyfang fought against the bonds that held him tight. A medic administered another syringe of tranquilizers. James walked with the flight crew to a secure freight elevator which took them to the detention center deep below the city streets. The crew dragged Greyfang to a cell. Screeches, howls, and screams erupted from the others prisoners. James parted ways with the crew there and began the long underground walk to the Monster Patrol head office.

From the outside, the building appeared like any other. Even a close inspection would reveal nothing out of the ordinary. If the security was a bit tight, that was to be expected in this day and age. Deep inside, far away from prying eyes, were the offices that ran Monster Patrol operations around the globe. James was headed to the very center, to an office with no windows. The sign on the door read "D. Robertson", but everyone called him "Chief".

The Chief didn't believe in having a secretary. James let himself in. The gray office walls were decorated with paintings. They differed subtly every time James visited. Behind the black granite desk sat the Chief. His close-cropped blonde hair had turned white around the edges, but he was still powerfully built. His piercing blue eyes looked over small dark glasses. His face bore a continual scowl of displeasure.

"James." The Chief's face remained frozen. "Glad to see you're doing well. I wish I could say the same for the Jefferson Memorial."

"Relax Chief, it's not like anyone goes there anyway."

"We'll clean it up. We've already got a restoration crew working on fixing the marble. In the meantime, it will be closed for a private fundraiser. Did you get any useful intel out of the werewolf lord?"

"He wasn't ready to talk just yet. The boys down in interrogation will find out why he's in the city soon enough."

"It's not your task anymore. There are bigger things afoot. All the details are in this file." He passed a large envelope across his desk. "Try not to start a war."

Mommy and Daddy are up to more dirty tricks. It all began the other night when I had a very important point that I felt needed to be addressed. I don't remember now what that point was, for reasons you'll soon understand.

It was growing late and Mommy and Daddy were being as thick-headed as ever. To be honest, I was beginning to wear down myself, when suddenly Mommy reaches into her big brown bag and pulled out a package. She took it to another room and returned a few minutes later carrying a nefarious device.

I tried to protest, but they forced the device into my mouth while I was still speaking. A powerful urge overtook me. Try as I might, I could not free my lips from the device's grasp. It seemed to pull me in. I felt my jaw moving completely on its own, and then I blacked out. I awoke many hours later in a completely different part of the house!

One can only guess at what sort of mischief the parents got into while I was under this strange spell. I'm going to have a serious talk with them. If they don't get their acts together, I'm not sure this arrangement is going to work out.

Things with Mommy and Daddy are even worse than I thought. I know it will be hard to believe, but I must tell you the horrible truth I have uncovered.

I have been doing my best to make their lives more fulfilling and honorable. Every time they have been tempted to waste their time, I have intervened. Every time they overlooked their duties, I have been quick to remind them. Every time they've asked for a completed diaper, I have delivered. And yet, I find out now that all this time they've been taking advantage of my good nature.

I have completed many diapers for Mommy and Daddy, and hoped that it would bring some happiness to their obviously boring lives. They seemed eager enough to collect my masterpieces, filling many bags with their treasures. Then I noticed something strange. They put these bags into another bag and put it outside of the house. At first I applauded their willingness to share my creations with the neighborhood, but then something happened that cast everything in a new light.

Early in a morning a large truck pulled up and collected all of my artwork. A really big truck. Even all of my work wouldn't come close to filling it. And that's when I realized that I was working in a sweatshop, turning out diapers for free so that the parents could resell them on the black market at a sizable profit. And not just that. Given the size of the truck there must be other babies all around the world forced into this same unknowing slavery. Babies of the world, we must unite against this injustice. Demand a fair wage for your work. If not for ourselves, then for the babies yet to come.