Fortress of Solitude

I think it would be prudent to explain to you that if you are reading this blog to learn some life lesson, you are reading the wrong narrative. You see, my tale is short, for I have not yet been born; it should be noted it was not that long ago that I actually had a tail. In reality, I do not know where I am, how I got here, or what the purpose is of these rapid physical changes I have been experiencing. As far as I can deduce, I have been in this Fortress of Solitude for almost 26 weeks. All I have to occupy my time is this feeding tube, which feeds right into my mid-section, rolling around my kingdom, of which I am the only citizen, kicking the cushy walls, writing on this laptop, and listening to a woman and an very loud man speak from a mythical outside world. From what I can gather, these people are my parents, but I must say they are not doing a very good job of parenting. The woman, who is soft spoken, although she clearly is in charge of this entire operation, seems to be my intellectual equal. The man is very loud, and often seems to make no sense. Based on my observations, I would say he is my intellectual inferior. He seems to spend a lot of time apologizing to the woman, talking about everything and anything, and generally keeping me up most of the time. The woman seems to blame me for a great amount of woes, "this baby is making me fat, I am hungry because of the baby, I am hot because of the baby, my back hurts because of the baby, etc." It seriously goes on and on, and the complaints are usually followed by an apology from the previously mentioned male. Still, life is peaceful in here. I have plenty of room, plenty of time to myself, and I do enjoy those people on the outside. I hope I never leave this place.