I’m totally open to the idea that we are descendents of a distant race of aliens. We are, after all the only beings on earth who require clothing to survive.

Maybe when we die, our spirit gets beamed aboard the Mother Ship. Maybe that’s why so many religions tells us about heaven. That’s how they explain outer space. Just saying. I’m open to it.

Then Baby Brother added another piece to the puzzle tonight.

We were laughing at how little K-Pam has such a tremendous vocal range without really saying anything. Then he surmised that maybe she is saying something in our Mother tongue and that we have to learn to speak Earth-based languages, like English, French and Swahili, because they’re foreign to us on a deeply internal level. If we were on the Mother Ship, we wouldn’t need to learn any language beyond the ga-ga goo-goo squeeee we were born with.

I could write a novel or a dissertation or give a speech on intergalactic economic viability in baby babble and earn accolades for the effort. Well, maybe not me, so much, but a smart alien-person could.

Baby Bro is freaky genius, in any language, at: pam@viewfromthenorth40.com

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