Armani
I never imagined a baby could make such ear-splitting sounds.
The shrill, piercing scream coming from the squirming bundle in my arms feels like it's drilling straight into my skull. I'm convinced my eardrums won't survive this ordeal. The tiny human seems determined to communicate his displeasure at maximum volume.
"Rena will know what to do," I mutter desperately.
I hate to disturb my wife's rest, but I've reached the end of my rope. I've tried everything I can think of to quiet this child. Walking around the palace halls. Offering a bottle. Bouncing him gently. I even checked his diaper—bone dry.
What could possibly be causing the poor little fellow such distress? And why must he share his misery with me at such an excruciating volume?
After what feels like hours but is pro
