When I was pregnant with Talia, Rainer and I were plagued with anxiety. Not your regular first-time-parent anxiety, mind you. I mean, we were pretty sure we would figure out the feeding/bathing/changing. After all, as Rainer liked to remind everyone - "People waaaaaaaaay dumber than us have babies all the time."
Anywho. Back to our anxiety. Rainer and I would be hanging out, and suddenly I would be gripped by panic and blurt out to my husband "What are we going to do if the baby isn't funny?" He would look back at me with fear in his eyes and whisper "I don't know. I just don't know."
Fast-forward 2 years. Talia is a non-stop chatterbox who, to our great relief, keeps us in stitches ALL. DAY. LONG. She is actually difficult to discipline at times, because she is hilarious. It is so hard to swallow our grins and giggles and be stern!
The stinker knows she's funny, too. Yesterday as I was trying to get her organized to go out, she kept pretending to fall asleep. (Note to self: now you know just how annoying that always is to Rainer when you do that as soon as he starts talking accounting.) When I told her she needed to smarten up, she rolled her eyes, clearly exasperated with her out-of-touch mother, and said "Mommy, I funny!!!"
Yes, you are, Littlenose. Now, of course, when you're really funny, you don't need to tell people. But let's cut her some slack, she is only two, after all.