I regret to inform you that The Giant training has hit a bit of a snag. The Giants ignore or are too dense to understand my clearest requests for cookies. I even suspect that they are withholding other secret delicious treats, such as the mythical "pie" and "cake". Usually my queries result in The Giants providing peas, green beans or broccoli. These are clearly not delicious treats. I've resolved to do some research on alternative discipline methods because my current technique of soiling myself does not seem as effective anymore.
Even more disturbing is that The Giants are encouraging me to do tricks for food like saying "please" and "thank you". It's humuliating. I usually look whatever Giant is before me right in the eyes and soil myself. If I had a rolled up newspaper to smack them on the nose I would use that, but alas I do not. Not yet.
My efforts on self propulsion continue to improve. The Giants insist that I spend time "out of doors" hindered by "boots" and a "snowsuit" for walking around. I can only imagine that this is a technique like attaching a cinder block to my leg before a swimming lesson. I strive to show The Giants that I can move myself out of doors, but alas I tire quickly and insist that they pick me up and bring me to some birds. Aside: I've made friends with a local bird that seems to be quite high up in the Catholic church - a cardinal - and we discuss things at length.
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| Walking my Giant in my boots and snowsuit |
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| I call this sculpture The Density of Giants |
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| The Fuzzy Giant insists that I take him on the slides |
The Giants also insist on covering my feet with "socks". I think that they are trying to find socks that I cannot remove which is silly as I am clearly a master of my feet. After removing socks I usually present the extracted socks while loudly proclaiming "SOCK!" to all Giants within earshot.
I've been training The Giants to sing on command. I particularly enjoy when The Fuzzy Giant hits the high notes of "the Beach Boys" classic song "Bob from Iran". The Food Giant is confused and keeps on referring to it as "Barbara Ann". Other songs I have been enjoying are ones we learned at "Monkey Rock". This is a weekly meeting in which one of The Giants and I sit in a circle with other normal sized individuals and their Giants. We sing songs and play with musical instruments. In addition to these troops, in daycare there is now another normal sized person. Slowly our ranks are growing. I'm sure with time we will be able to overwhelm The Giants.
The Giants have stopped referring to me as a "baby" and now are referring to me as a "big girl". This is utter nonsense because I have been, and continue to be, exactly One Alice (OA) tall. It's The Giants who are slowly shrinking. I will start to worry if they do not consult a physician soon about their condition.
With some help I've worked through my fear of balls. This was posing a problem because it seemed where ever The Giants took me, there were balls people would roll towards me. Alas in curing this fear, I have developed a fear of parachutes, such as the one they have at Monkey Rock. All the movement, colours, air movement, the people gathered around it chanting some ritualisitic song... it's the stuff of nightmares. Specifically my nightmares.
The Food Giant has been taking me to "swimming lessons" at one of the local pools. This has been a less than pleasant experience because we both find the pool too cool. I express my displeasure by tightly holding onto my Giant around her neck and hoping for the end where we will spend some time in the hot water of the "shower". The wonderful, wonderful shower... But it is true that I have been known to enjoy splashing my hands, kicking my feet and even being dunked under water. However, I must say a few extra degrees added to the water temperature could greatly enhance the experience. The Giants promise me that there are not too many more of these lessons.
Last week, friends of The Giants brought over their new baby for a visit. The Food Giant tells me that I was that small but I find that hard to believe. I am quite comfortable around my Giants, but I don't know how they will react around other normal sized people. So I try to protect the other people by not letting them get too close in case one of my Giants becomes skittish and bites or piddles on the floor. I really don't want to deal with that situation. I believe that my Giants are all up to date on their shots, but I have not gotten around to getting them licensed with the city.
Leaving the house with The Giants can be a big ordeal. It takes so long for them to get ready and inevitably we have to go back in for something. In order to speed up the process I've been taking a bigger part in getting my outside clothes on and off. A lot of the process I can now do with minimal assistance. Why anyone would ever design clothes that require help from a Giant I will never know. The Giants always seem to be amazed that I can identify things like a hat, shirt, socks, pants, etc. I don't understand why there is any wonder in it, they are after all my clothes.
The winter has been long and while it is slowly getting warmer there is still quite a lot of snow out. Because I deserve it, I've ordered The Giants to schedule a get-a-way to somewhere warmer. The destination chosen is Cuba. Apparently there will be more staff to accomodate my every whim. That is important because I have a lot of whims. The resort is supposed to be quite nice, and while I am already bringing my staff (The Giants) I believe that I am also permitted two other guests. For this I've chosen my faithful friends Mr. Duckie and Mr. Bunny (he no longer goes by B-Cubed).
Alas, it is growing late and I must bid you farewell,
Yours always,
Alice
