So, on this same thread, the other night it had been like a million hours since I last slept because of my new daughter, and I was laying collapsed in the bed. My husband walks in.
Reaver: our daughter’s in the living room in her bouncy-chair. Her eyes are open, staring, but she’s not crying.
Me (so out of it): She’s gonna eat my soul, isn’t she?
Reaver: What? No! She’s your baby daughter.
Me (still so out of it): Okay dear. You go tend to her and I’m just gonna pretend she isn’t gonna kill me.
Fun times.
So, on this same thread, the other night it had been like a million hours since I last slept because of my new daughter, and I was laying collapsed in the bed. My husband walks in.
Reaver: our daughter’s in the living room in her bouncy-chair. Her eyes are open, staring, but she’s not crying.
Me (so out of it): She’s gonna eat my soul, isn’t she?
Reaver: What? No! She’s your baby daughter.
Me (still so out of it): Okay dear. You go tend to her and I’m just gonna pretend she isn’t gonna kill me.