Her world, My world

Every night I hold my baby, with her bottle, and sit on the couch next to the window. Often times she sits up after a few sips and tug on the blinds. “Let’s look out the window!” I say, and pull them up. The room is dark but the lights from the nearby mall are bright at this time of the year, since all the trees went bald. I let her look, or I play with her for as long as she wants. It ever only lasts for a little while before she settles down again. Lately she loves to push her bottle along the window sill until it topples. I go catch it every time as if it was about to fall, she laughs. I pretend to punish her by tickling her neck, she laughs. We’re not afraid of the dark; this is our happy hour.

Her world outside is so big she can’t even imagine. She looks intently and curiously at this place that she’ll one day explore and learn about and love. While I, I just cannot take my eyes off her little face, the curls by her ears, her twinkling eyes, baby nose and the two teeth peeking out from her smile.

We sit there quietly. She’s looking outside, I’m looking at her. Each of us admiring and curious about our world.

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