Living in my house is like living inside a comedy showcase most days.
Kyra has some pretty quick come backs. She clearly has her mother's wry sense of humor. Though, she does one better on me- she's funny without ever trying to be.
Me? If I crack a joke I have to actually think about what I'm going to say. And even then, unless you're slightly twisted like me (or you've been around me long enough), no one even notices I've made a joke but usually just thinks I'm being a giant ass. Lets face it, if I suggested we name our boy "Fuzzy Balls" no one would find me nearly as funny.
In fact, someone would probably want to arrest me for potential child cruelty.
Lydia has a whole 'nother sense of comedic-ness. She goes by way of slap stick comedy.
Think Lucille Ball and Dick Van Dyke.
This child will- WILLINGLY- throw herself to the ground, tumble head over heels over a toy or run head long into a wall... for the sole purpose of comedic effect... and stands back up with the wild and crazy faces you'd expect to see on a Vaudeville stage, a mix of exaggerated pain and humor. It. Is. Hysterical!
Not to mention, its also an ever pleasant change from her first 15 months of screamy, hateful, baby colic stage she had going on there for a long time.
I'm actually looking forward to this winter. Being locked inside the warmth of my house all week with two children constantly underfoot. It's going to make for some gut busting moments with my kids.
My little comedians.