Between the brutal shock of learning to live with a baby 24/7/365 and an utterly horrible nursing experience my first time around, I really thought I didn't like babies. But now that I no longer feel entitled to sleeping in, having time to myself, or remaining fully clothed whenever the fancy strikes, I've honestly started to enjoy having one around the house.
The current specimen is over-the-top personable and his corpulence alone wins him praise and respect wherever he goes. But his predecessor, a much more cautious lass, was also a great friend to have around. She didn't think much of anyone else, but she liked me. They always like me. It's really nice of them.
Now if I could just figure out how to get along with 2- and 3-year-olds, I'd really have it made.