Vivi had a great evening yesterday: she blew flurbits on her dad's tummy. It took all her nerve to approach the bare dad belly -- but finally she swooped in, shrieking with joy, and planted a big raspberry. Then she dashed off across the room, hoisted her dress, stuck out her belly, and waited to have it kissed, laughing hysterically.
This is a step up even on the "your nose goes honk" trick which so delights her. She did it for most of an hour, just prancing with joy in her big new pink and silver sneakers.
Why do these posts move me so much?
I think, it feels like *I'm* being (re)parented. In the best possible way.