The Guy will often chase the dog around the house, swoop him up into his arms, and cradle him on his back like a baby. Monty alternately hates and loves this game. He frantically tries to escape his rocking position, but his tail wags like crazy. All the while, The Guy croons "Who's the baby?" (He is going to KILL me for writing that,, but seriously, how cute!?)
One day, I was watching them and commented.
Me: You know, we could just have a real baby and then Monty wouldn't hate you.
The Guy: True, but Monty is cute and little.
Me: Yes, but a baby is cute and little too.
The Guy: But Monty will be cute and little forever.
Me: Maybe we could have a Down Syndrome baby. They are adorable and stay cute forever. Wait! Maybe we could have a Down Syndrome midget baby!!* Then the baby would be cute and little forever!
The Guy: ...
Me: What? That's a perfectly acceptable option.
The Guy: I think we should just stick with the dog for now.
Me: Fine. Party pooper.
Sometimes, I'm not sure The Guy knows what to do with me.
*Yes, I'm aware I will likely go to hell for this and/or be chased and linched by numerous groups for my horribleness. Meh.