I am writing to you on an uncharacteristically beautiful day to inquire about the process for having languages listed within the official registrar of official linguistics. More specifically, I’d like to confirm that there is such a thing and get some basic information for having languages added (which I’d assume requires a form of some sort).

A little context for this request…

I’m a recent divorcee, or, perhaps more accurately, I’m a recent victim of divorce. My wife of 6 years served me with divorce papers by slipping them under the bathroom door one Sunday morning and shouted through the door that she’d be at her sisters for the next few weeks. I loved my wife very much and would have certainly run after her, so her waiting for me to be indisposed was an impressive tactic.

I do not need to get into the specifics about where our marital troubles began or how they developed over the course of our relationship, but two issues that continued to pop up in various forms were my inability to accomplish anything and my fondness for speaking in baby talk.

At first, my care-free, “We can do that tomorrow,” attitude was great and we would lay around the floor of my one-bedroom apartment and enjoy pointing out blemishes in the ceiling. She’d point to an old water stain and say it looked like a cat’s eye and I would say something like, “Prwetty Kiddy.” We would laugh. We would embrace and I’d fall asleep in her arms.

Somewhere along the way the qualities that caused her to fall in love with me became the symbol of all the things she despised. She would nag me about quitting a simple job like mowing the lawn ½ way through and not even curl a corner of her lip towards a smile when I’d say, “Tha wawn mowah will just wun awah gas eventuawy.”

What was I supposed to do? I don’t have a deep vocabulary. My four years of French produced 3 Ds and a plagiarized paper about how to buy eggs from a farmer. How is someone like me supposed to be impressive to a wife who makes everything she says sound as if it were a poem coming from a Deity’s tear of joy? When she first told me she loved me, she basically sung it in a four part harmony. How could I give her anything less than, “Me wawwa huggsies you”??

Obviously, having baby talk added to an official list of some sort would validate what she considered to be a sign of stilted emotional growth. However, it’s more than just an attempt to show my ex-wife her errors. I also seek out this official status because I want her to know that I never meant to make fun of her mother.

My former mother in-law was an incredibly smart and interesting woman. I do not say this as hyperbole when I say she was a favorable house guest. Unfortunately, due to an unfortunate accident where a neighbor’s dog mistook my mom in-law’s tongue for its liver treat, she lost a small portion of said tongue.

Martha was gracious and graceful through the recovery, but her speech suffers even now to the point that most of what she says sounds surprisingly similar to what my former wife despised as my baby talk. A coincidence? Validation? I can’t say. What I can say is that I took this as an invitation to remind my wife of the adorable nature of baby talk while relieving her mother of the embarrassment of ordering dinner rolls as, “weiner wolls.”

But was my sensitivity, empathy and willingness to put myself on the line rewarded? Hardly. In fact, my wife insisted my actions came across as mocking. How could I be mocking this situation? If ordering a bottle of red wine as, “Nummy montepushkeyonto in a biggie cup,” is somehow insensitive to Martha’s speech pattern, then I’d be the first to apologize. If asking the waiter if the Salmon comes with, “chichen fingeys or mushed pahtayties,” somehow became an unacceptable way for a person to talk than I am sorry.

There is, however, no real remorse in these words and I hope you understand why I would like to have baby talk added to a list of official languages spoken. No need to send a certificate or any official looking letter. I have plenty of such notifications framed and ready to be hung around my office.

Sincerely,

Connor Stritskin