Michael has recently taken to referring to me as the Tauntaun. Meaning, every time he looks at me, he is visualizing this:
Which seems about right.
While out to dinner with Michael and my mom the other night, we noticed a recently evicted baby being rocked in her car seat while the parents ate. This sparked the following conversation:
Mom: That will be you guys soon. You never stop rocking. It's all you do.
Michael: What's with that? Why do babies find that so comforting?
Jen: (Super excited to know the answer and dazzle the world with her wealth of knowledge and ready to receive the thunderous applause and cheers for being brilliant) Well, the baby is used to being in the womb and moving around all day. I can feel it already. The Bean sleeps while I'm up and about doing things. It's when I sit or lay down and stop moving that she starts kicking and punching me.
Michael: It's probably because she thinks you died and is trying to let the outside world know she's still in there.
My mother stared at us horrified as Michael and I spent the next 5 minutes enacting exactly how The Bean was signaling for help from inside and cackling the entire time.
Look! I drew you a cartoon so you could see the sublime humor in it all (you may need to click on them to enlarge them to see the full scope of genius):
Poor Nana. She's going to have her work cut out for her trying to make sure this grandbaby grows up well-adjusted.