We attended sing and sign classes for two terms, starting a few months after Little Monster's first birthday. We enjoyed them immensely and they produced a few very funny moments. The first occurred during a rendition of that timeless classic "Three Currant Buns in the Baker's Shop". When the teacher chose her to buy the second currant bun, my Little Monster started wiggling her bottom and holding her hands in the air. She made such a performance out of her part in the song that the entire class, teacher included, were in fits of giggles. Perhaps you had to be there to see it but I've never seen such a small child put on such a performance. She even had perfect rhythm! Another funny thing she used to do at Sing and Sign actually happened at almost every class. For a couple of songs, the teacher provided some instruments for us all to use. My Little Monster often made the decision halfway through the last song that instrument time was over and carried the basket around the class to collect them. Most of her fellow babies complied and if they didn't, she politely but firmly told them that it was tidy up time. Luckily my fellow mums just found this amusing, rather than a bit annoying. The final amusing incident at the Sing and Sign class was during a song about using the potty. We had just introduced the potty at home but with little interest from the Little Monster. However, when a potty was placed in the centre of the semi circle we usually sat in for the class, she decided it was an opportunity to give it a try. Promptly removing her jeans and nappy in one very swift movement, she sat herself down. I was then faced with a dilemma. I had been waiting for this wonderful moment to occur and I couldn't risk telling her off for this as it might well have been a huge setback. On the other hand, I couldn't really let her possibly produce something in front of the entire class. So I decided to delicately remove her from the potty whilst still praising her for trying. In fact, she received a round of applause from the mums.
About a week ago we were travelling on the bus. Having already given her one biscuit, I refused giving a second. But rather than this resulting in the usual tantrum, she started wagging her finger at me, theatrically repeating my full name and firmly stating that I am very naughty girl. A mixture of giggles and looks of grim judgement from my fellow passengers caused my face to turn a rather fetching shade of scarlet. I'm going to delight in announcing that Mummy Loves Her in front of as many of her school mates as possible when she's a teenager. Sweet revenge.
I have a huge flaw when it comes to giggling. I cannot help myself. Especially when I know I shouldn't. A few months ago, I had to fake a coughing fit during a church sermon. Most strangely, I struggle to keep a straight face whenever I witness a couple having an argument. I think it must have something to do with the ridiculous things people come out with when arguing. I think you can only appreciate how juvenile adult arguments can become if you're outside the situation. But I come to my point: my daughter has worked this flaw out. She knows that all she has to do is pull a funny face when I'm supposed to be quiet or serious and I'll burst into laughter. She finds this hilarious. She has also perfected an innocent facial expression so that if I try to apologetically explain that I am taking the situation seriously but my daughter just did the funniest thing, she looks around as if to say "Me? But I'm just a sweet little toddler. How could I have anything to do with it?" Which only makes me laugh all the more.
I think she has the same mischievous sense of humour as the Other Half, which I happen to find hilarious. Its so lovely to watch her personality develop in this way. She loves making people laugh. She loves being centre of attention. It reassures me that she won't suffer with socially crippling timidity the way I did growing up. I used to be too shy to even tell a joke because if people laughed, I'd turn bright red with embarrassment. Luckily, this self conciousness is disappearing as I get older. Well, I'm not sure if its age or an effect of having such an outgoing daughter. All I know is that I'll now sing "The Wheels on the Bus" in public with no shame at all.