I may be just a baby, but I can sense that something is wrong. My parents don't talk to each other in a normal way.

They may say "Isn't he cute?" and "Did you see the face he made?" But I seem to be a distraction in the room - like the television.

They look at me instead of at each other. They may speak to one another about me - but they don't discuss any other topics.

I feel a pressure to entertain them. It seems to be what they want. They look at me eagerly for a distraction. Something to help them forget that there is a problem in their own lives. I give them a goofy smile, and they laugh. I've done my job well. They forget their pain for a moment.

But when I sleep, I dream about their sad faces. I sense their loneliness. My parents want to reach out to each other. They need to share their thoughts and feelings with someone, but they don't know how.

My parents wait for me to awaken, so I can make another funny face. They'll laugh and they'll forget their unhappiness again.

It is a lot of pressure for one so small who cannot even crawl, but I do my best to entertain them. I want my parents to be happy. I love them.

I may be small, but I know when a person is pretending. My daddy makes a big smile, but it is a fake smile. He makes a joke, and it is a funny joke, but he is hiding something behind the joke. He shares his fake smiles and his jokes with me, but he keeps everything else to himself, deep inside.

I only have half a daddy.

He must not feel close to me. That is why he builds a big wall around himself decorated with fake smiles and jokes. Maybe he doesn't even love me.

I don't hear him say "I love you" to Mommy either.

Sometimes Mommy becomes very angry with him. She tries to hide it from me, but I can feel her frustration in the air currents of the house.

I hear her cry in the night.

Daddy whispers, "I'm sorry." But what is he sorry for? When I can speak, I will ask him.

For now, I will wail and rouse them from their bed. I will distract them, because I love them.