Okay, I confess, she's still 10 days short of 6 months... and she just kicked my ass.
I made the mistake of getting down on the play mat with her. I forgot that down there, I no longer have the advantage. My power rests in the fact that I can stand on two legs and that frees my arms to do other things. Down there, on the floor, in my make-shift playpen (having three couches is the most brilliant idea the DB has ever had, all I needed to do was add a wall and TADA playpen) her inability to stand without support is not much of a handicap.
It began when she crawled over to me. I rolled onto my back, at least freeing my hands to try to defend myself, but babies... they're slippery.
She grabbed my hair with one hand, close to the roots, and pulled back, pinning my head to the floor. Then, with the other hand, she stuck her fingers UP MY NOSE and PULLED. When I tried to remove her hand, she dug in with her nails and put an elbow in my eye. Tears clouded my vision, but nothing softened my hearing as furious laughter erupted from my tiny conqueror.
Releasing my hair, she planted that hand in my remaining eye and relinquished my nose, only to clamp her sharp nails on my lips, pinning them together. I inhaled sweet air, wincing as it burned where her nails had left paper-cut-thin wounds, only to lose even that precious pleasure as she brought her mouth down directly over my nose and stuck her probing tongue up one of my tender nostrils.
Drool flooded my nose and I was now unable to breathe, my lips held by steel-tipped pinchers, and I began to wonder if the police would believe that my 13 lbs (6.5 kg) child could have killed me. Or if they'd charge my husband with my death, hauling the DB off to jail and leaving the Spawn to continue to kill unabated.
Suddenly she let loose my lips as she reached over my body to grasp my shirt at the shoulder. As I took a deep breath, she lifted her head, apparently finished exploring my nose and grinned down at me. Clearly, she was enjoying my plight. I began to explain, patiently, that this was a bit rough for me and we hadn't really confirmed any "safe words" so I was becoming a bit alarmed, when she lunged abruptly, thrusting her knee into my tender breast. My nipple may be well-worn leather by now, but the mammary glands are still remarkably delicate.
With that, all the air rushed back out of my body in a sudden "oh shiiiiiiiiiit" and she delivered the coup d'état - she simply took her fist out of my eye and dropped the weight of her body on my neck. It was a perfect WWE maneuver. I may have deleted all of the sports channels from our cable, but somehow she's learned how to body check.
"Garrrrrgh" was all I managed.
"Honey, do you need help?" asked the DB from downstairs, happily ignorant of the carnage above.
"Mmrph" I replied.
"Baby, don't kill Mommy" he called up the stairs as he headed back out to the garage. Plausible deniability was now his.
After he was safely outside, she lifted herself up and crowed with victory. Saliva ran down her chin and pooled on my chest. Her eyes were bright and her grin toothless. With a laugh that was only just this side of sane, she leaned down and gummed my chin. It was the wettest kiss I've ever had.
And that was it. I was defeated.