Half of it is you.
Half of it is you.
Kids these days have it good, do they not?
You feel old when the identification card numbers of contest winners starts with ‘90-’, indicating that they are born in the year 1990. It does not sound that distant, but when you do the mathematics, it comes up to a whopping fourteen years ago.
Baby Ian was around last night. One thing with babies is that, well, almost everyone says that they do not know anything. Yet.
“Can he turn over?”
“Nah, he doesn’t know how to, yet. He’s managed halfway, though…”
“Teach him to hold his milk bottle!”
“He’ll let go of it in 5 seconds – he doesn’t really know how to hold it yet…”
All in all, still busy exploring and discovering the wonders of the new world. That is why they do not burst into laughter easily, because, well – not everything amusing appears that funny to them to warrant even a smile. Babies’ smiles are precious, indeed. Getting Ian to laugh proved to be quite a task. He either has a short attention span, or is easily distracted with the monotonous circling of the ceiling fan, or the strikingly fast-moving images on the television. All he ever does is have his eyes wander, taking in the facial features of the strange-yet-familiar people surrounding him, punch his little fists, and move his legs in the air as though walking on a vertical imaginary treadmill.
However, his mother successfully got him to laugh – a lot – last night. He squealed in delight, enjoying the comical faces and the tummy tickles from his mother. I have never heard nor seen him like that previously. He was savouring every moment of it, and happiness was etched in every part of his adorable (heh!) face. His eyes were twinkling like bright stars in the night black sky; his cheeks glowing a pinkish hue of red; and his lips formed into a big grin that could have reached even his ears.
We burst into laughter as well. Oddly enough, I felt tears welling up in my eyes – to the extent that I had to look away or be caught crying (and not being able to produce an explanation for that). I was not sure why – could it be tears of joy, or did that amazing sight touch a chord within me somewhere?
I think it would be even more amazing to see him grow into a fine young man. What can an aunt give to her little nephew – who already seems to own everything in the world?
On air now: Muzzle of Bees, Wilco