This morning when baby girl was nursing, she kept trying to "pick up" a freckle on my chest. She would grab at it, pull her hand back in a little fist, and then slowly open her hand, looking for it. When it wasn't there, she would realize it was still on my chest, and would try to pick it up again. Back and forth. Try to pick it up . . . check the hand . . . try to pick it up . . . check the hand. She tried different angles. She tried using the tips of her fingers and she tried with her whole, raking grasp. She tried softly and she tried with more gusto. But each time, the same concentration. The same slow pull back with closed fist. The same careful opening to see if she had been successful.
Eventually I got so tickled I started laughing, and then she started smiling because she made me laugh. Then she would try to pick up the freckle and immediately look at me to see if she was making me laugh again.
I never, ever want to forget this memory.
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