One of the many joys of having a small child at home is the gift of laughter. Any time of the night or day. Comes without invitation. Or expectation. Or warning.
The little angel comes up to me today to remind me that I have to read her a story.
How many, ask I.
Silly question.Deserves a ruthless answer.
She holds up three fingers of her hand.
Five, she says.
Too much confusion for my accounting brain. Three or five, I ask her, pointing out the apparent variances in the two numbers.
Short pause.
She prefers the spoken number - Five. A dazzling smile. I get a hug & a kiss to help make up my mind.
Laughter. Both of us. Then her mother joins in too.
No negotiations possible when laughing!
Fast asleep now.
My latest goal: At least one hearty laugh a day.
Happiness, I think, is an inside job.
