Laughing... almost

Well, Lucy B, here's the first letter to you from your dad here. Not to make excuses, but I haven't had a chance to write before this... you've kept me THAT busy! (Although it pales in comparison to how busy you've kept your mom. She's at it full-time AND manages to post beautiful messages on this all the time.)

Yesterday, after another non-fussy church experience, we brought you home and fed you, which often induces your happiest moments of the day. After your mom got finished feeding you, I had you on my lap playing with you, and I knew you were down with it, since the instant I started making ridiculous faces and sounds, your face lit up and you started smiling. Seeing my chance, I thought I'd try to encourage that heralded milestone: your First Laugh. And boy did we come ever close! I would get you smiling, then, like a jackal going in for the kill, I'd nuzzle into your neck and elicit the ever so slightest hint of a giggle. Of course this mellifluous sound served as an opiate to me and I instantly craved more. I would repeat the process, and each time get SOOOO close to a full-on laugh. I have no doubt that it's just around the corner, and I can't wait to be helplessly enamored with it each and every time I hear it. And if there's one thing I hope you inherited from my side of the family, it's the Worthen sense of humor. Because if you inherited THAT, trust me, you'll be laughing ALL THE TIME! A wicked combination of morbid, inappropriate, self-deprecating, infectious, and wonderful.

After getting you to almost-laugh about 5 or 10 times, you got completely over-stimulated at my wild gesticulations and expressions that the almost-laughing turned into very real wailing, signaling it was time for you to disassociate. Sorry about that. I'll try to temper myself next time, I promise.