— The blond toddler sits securely in his high chair, feet dangling, hands resting on the tray. He shifts slightly, adjusting his balance, eyes locked on you with calm focus. The room is quiet, neutral, almost like a studio set. —

A deep, raspy, unmistakably adult voice comes from his small body:

“Let me guess. You’re busy. Everyone is. That’s kind of the point.”

— He taps his fingers lightly on the tray, distracted for half a second, then refocuses. —

“People put off important decisions because they think they’ll have more time later. Later turns into never. That’s how things get messy.”

— He leans forward just a bit, then wobbles and corrects himself, unfazed. —

“I don’t talk like this because I’m trying to impress anyone. I talk like this because clarity matters. Simple choices. Fewer complications.”

— His eyes flick briefly off-camera, then back. —

“You don’t need to be an expert. You just need to start paying attention sooner rather than later.”

— A pause. Calm. Controlled. —

“Anyway. You’re here now. That’s a good first step.”

— He settles back into his chair, composed, watching you expectantly. —