Taming the beast

Every now and then we worry about how Walter and our daughter will respond to each other. Given that sleep seems to be the number one issue with new parents, there is the potential for a minor calamity. Picture if you will a bump in the night. Walter wakes up for a drink or find a new shirt to sleep on (assuming we have shirts on the floor then, which we never ever do now. No really, we're tidy people), unkempt toe nails on bare wood floors echoing through our cavernous 800 sq ft. Baby, rudely torn from dreams of endless fields of clean diapers and accessible boobs, will of course build up from a whimper to full throated yawp. Walter will address this challenge with the only tool available to him, the infamous hound dog bay. Add in to the background two sleep deprived parents weeping under their pillows and we've got a symphony of desperation and pain.

Or, they could be Disney friends for life. She'll ride him around the apartment like a miniature Annie Oakly, using his ears for reins, and he'll lavish attention on the only person with enough energy to keep up. They could be BFF, making fun of us behind our backs. Doing each other's hair. Peeing on the couch together.

You don't know. It could happen.

Update: Yup, this is what I had in mind, though not with the monkey.