Alfred dimmed the lights. “I hope you’ll be okay without me.” He looked down at her perfect little face. He wondered if she really would be okay without him; he was her advocate. He could understand her, and let The Mother know what she needed.
He nestled himself atop her head and got cozy. This was going to take a while. He scanned and scanned, looking through her available dictionary of words.
“Hm, okay, so she can call on them, ask for milk, say ‘no,’ talk about urination under the guise of playing peek-a-boo…”
Alfred thoughtfully added some words he figured would help her during her travels, and quietly slipped out into the night, leaving nothing but a kiss behind.
The next morning, during a rather intricate battle between The Girl and The Mother over a phone with capitalization issues, Alfred’s gift of gab displayed itself. “MOMMA, WHERE IS DADDY?”