my newfound thrill of getting away with things

I can be a real brat, but in the most amusing way.

My best friend and husband might describe me in certain moments as a kitten that bats at your shoelaces until they become frayed, or pounces at your calves while you frantically try to accomplish things. No, wait, he has a strong dislike for cats. We share that sentiment.

My best friend and husband might describe me in certain moments as a hyperactive puppy, completely refusing to listen, delighting more fully in the sound of its own yapping.

"I wish you would listen to your husband, for once!" he'd say while I bounced out the door with no coat.

Last night, as he packed a suitcase for our trip to visit my parents, he carefully folded shirts and placed them meticulously in the suitcase. They weren't his best shirts. I took them out and threw them clear across the room, giggling like mad.

When we're brushing our teeth at the sink in pajamas, I like trying to push him into the shower and turn the water on. (Never successful.)

The reason this is so amusing is because A. my husband is the gentlest, kindest being to never retaliate and B. when to my surprise and astonishment, I push the older, more mature puppy to the brink of retaliation, I shrink down and say, "BUT! I'm pregnant."

It reminds me of the time I worked at Disneyworld when I was 19. I entertained guests in a costume by playing the role of "Silly ol' Bear." I would hug small children with soft, cuddly golden arms. I would tilt my adorable face and "Think, think, think!" All met with adoring an "Awwwwww."

That's why it was so fun backstage when I was all dressed and waiting to go on set. I untied co-workers shoes, then mimed an innocent, "Oh, bother." I unsnapped and unzippped costumes being assembled. Goofy would come after me, and I'd turn on Pooh's Innocence.

"I can't do anything to that face! Pooh's too cute!"

Maybe my incurable bratiness stems from having five older brothers, when I got away with nothing. Maybe it's just in the genes. (My mom salted and peppered my dad's hands once while he prayed over his lunch when they dated. Love you, mom!) Life's more fun when you make fun of it, I say!