Jane has happy dreams, judging from her expressions while sleeping. The closest she's come to smiling has happened in her sleep, and I'm always just too late with the camera to quite do the smile justice. But it's very heartening, betokening peaceful thoughts and idyllic childhood.
Babies do have the most reprehensible table manners, and Jane is, alas, no exception. I keep telling her that there's no need to rush and that she should take daintier swallows, but she persists in her desperate gulps and gasps and gags as if anticipating an impending food shortage. This invariably leads to a certain discomfort a few minutes later. So I sit her up and pat her back until she yields the appropriate sound effect. 'Good girl,' I tell her. 'That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Happy now?' She gives me such a surprised look that I have to explain my commendation. 'Yes, I know it's not the most ladylike thing, but there are exceptions to every etiquette rule. This is one of them.' Ah. Having had that cleared up to her satisfaction, she drifts off to sleep and starts smiling.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment