The Neonatal Whisperer
Prompt Playground Series Part 7
In Saultrock, a burbling burp wasn’t just gas; it could be a stock tip. A giggle? The latest gossip. And a full-fledged meltdown? Well, that usually meant a cryptic message from the universe, courtesy of your little one.
Take Sahar and Liam, for instance. When their daughter Mae first cried, it was a symphony — a high C followed by three descending coo-chi-coos. Liam, a data analyst by day, deciphered it as 7, 14, 22, 3, and 48. They played the lottery, hearts pounding, and…wohoo! A vacation in Hawaii (and enough leftover leis to decorate their entire house).
Their son, however, was a different story. From the moment Amir entered the world, his cries were a chaotic jazz ensemble — honks, squeaks, and the occasional raspberry. One particularly frantic episode had Sahar scrambling for a pen. By the time the dust settled, she had a messy drawing that vaguely resembled a map, complete with a giant X and a squiggly line that could have been a river or a particularly angry earthworm.
“Honey,” Sahar said, waving the masterpiece, “I think Amir might be leading us on a treasure hunt?”
Liam, ever the realist, snorted. “Treasure? Guarded by what, diaper-wearing squirrels?”
