That title might not suggest a cozy little nook into which you would eagerly nestle, but I like the sound of it. I’m a fan of alliteration, for one thing. I’m an even bigger fan of venting—because the less brazen of the world can always use one more boldly opinionated blogger to be their voice, right? Anyway, that’s what I always tell myself as I prepare to bestow unsolicited observations on life’s little annoyances.

So what’s the gripe du jour? I’m not quite sure what to call the phenomenon, so I’ll describe it, hoping to inspire a series of “ah, yes” responses. (I’d hate to think I was the only pooper at this party.)

There’s a trend lately of companies employing eleven-year-old girls to hawk everything from financial advice to real estate to computer apps to migraine medication. Take notice, the next time you’re listening to the radio during a too-slow commute or vegetating in front of the television on a lazy Sunday afternoon. It’s a thing. Really. At least that’s how it sounds.

So I ask myself, what genius market analyst concluded that consumers are more likely to buy this, that, and the other thing, if said thing is being touted by a female who sounds like a little girl? Is that tiny, high-pitched voice thought to be less intimidating? More trustworthy? More credible? Surely it doesn’t convey authority or wisdom. I would hope those attributes still belong to mature individuals who have lived a bit and learned a bit, who have tried and tested the world.

Maybe the logic is based on the same appeal that sells millions of Girl Scout cookies year after year, even to households like mine wherein gluten sensitivity precludes any possibility of actually chowing down on that box of Thin Mints. Cute kid. Must be a worthy organization. Oh heck, give me two boxes.

If anybody out there has another explanation, please share.

And as long as I’m confessing petty grievances, what’s with libraries these days? They used to be quiet zones; places where one could read and ponder, even do some thoughtful composing of blog posts on the public computer terminals.

The librarians at my local branch now seem intent on dispelling their image as stern shushers by being the loudest voices in the room. Not only do they fail to scold the guy delivering oily business promises on his cell phone while plugged into one of those public P.C.s, they actually outshout him. I have watched agog what resembles a stage performance, as they project rather than mute their verbal exchanges with patrons.

Literacy among children is a cause I strongly support. I want youngsters to love books. However, I would like to inform the parents of the screeching gaggles of wee ones whose library visits coincide with mine that a transition from outdoor voices to indoor voices is an admirable skill to teach.

Now, if I could first convince the library staff.