The Giggle

Little Jdog giggled today. It sounded like pure, sweet delight. I was the only one who heard it. I tried to attract Atrain’s attention without scaring away Jdog’s fragile little laugh, but it was gone before I could procure a witness. I smiled for the rest of the afternoon, just remembering that simple, fluttering, happy sound.

The husband came home and I relayed the news. “He giggled?” he said with a doubtful lilt in his voice. “Yes, he giggled” I said, building up my defenses. “I was playing peek-a-boo and tickling his legs like this,” showing the husband how I garnered the giggles out of Jdog. But baby J just stared up at me with his wide almond eyes without even a hint of a smile. In fact, his lower lip began to quiver. “Well he did,” I said. “Uh-huh,” said hubby, raising his eyebrows. “You’re just jealous,” I retort.

He did. Jdog giggled today, just for me; just like he poops his pants every day, just for me. The hubby should be jealous. I’m the lucky one who gets them both.