Errol’s been held for most of his waking life (perhaps it’s a record). He’s rarely awake and out of someone’s arms. He loves being held, touched, and kissed, but I’ve recently felt that he wanted to be on the giving end rather than always receiving (How did I know a thing like that? Have a baby, believe me, you’ll know). It was Errol’s turn to give. I turned my face to Errol so he could give me a kiss. He closed his little lips around my cheek. It must be a coincidence, a reaction, I thought. I did it again. He closed his mouth into a kiss, again, but this time, the kiss was followed by a squeak of pleasure. I offered him my cheek again, and he kissed and squealed again. We were onto something. After five minutes of kisses, it was his mother’s turn. The kisses and squawks of joy were repeated. Happiness is all around us, if we are just patient enough to let it be.
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