a captive audience

Ninja thinks I'm The Most Wonderful Thing Ever and that is the #1 reason why she won't ever go to sleep.

I'm a very ordinary person. Reserved, nerdy, semi-crunchy. I think I have a decent sense of humour and I do like to be the instigator of pranks. (I whisper ideas and then others do my dirty work. I look innocent and so I get off scot-free!)

But my dear child considers me the be-all and end-all. Which is very flattering. It's a new experience to me: having a captive audience. She laughs at all my jokes.

She thinks almost everything is a hoot, really.

Two weekends ago she laughed in the crying face of her cousin, a four-month-old baby.

Last week she laughed at two ladies in the thrift store who, most unfortunately, were at the receiving end of a crashingly broken full rack of clothes. (And then she tutted at the ladies, presumably to guide them to the best way of remedying their problem. I giggled so hard I had to leave the store.)

Schadenfreude much? ;)

Her laugh isn't that loud yet. Occasionally she manages to actually make 'laughter' sounds - especially when I tickle her, which occurs at least every 2 minutes - but usually her giggles are more physical (shaking body and smiling face) than aural.

Today the Ninja was babbling away and I was imitating her. She stopped chatting and laughed out loud. That was the first time that she communicated to me her understanding of what was happening when I make the same sounds that she does.

Ah, baby giggles. There's nothing better. Except maybe the experience of watching this little person learn to listen and to talk.