Monday, April 4, 2011
I say, "Allo. I'm Marty the spider! I'm 'ere to sit on your tummy!", in my secret British accent. My pint-sized infant giggles appreciatively, and politely halts to see if Marty might say anything else. Luckily, he does not know what the British sound like, or what the English language sounds like for that matter. Encouraged by this, brave Marty soldiers on and cons his tiny admirer into believing that he is the colorful prime minister of Britain and loves doing jumping-jacks on babies' heads. Audience is fascinated by Marty and waits for more conversation with the stuffed spider. I, however am tired of holding Marty and cannot think of anything else clever to say, so I excitedly point to an electric outlet, and baby reluctantly looks away.
He will forget about Marty for the rest of the day in exchange for a nap, milk and a bouncy chair. Marty will be back tomorrow- hopefully with fresh lines and new takes on current British living.