Soapbox

Belly Laughs

 

It comes bubbling forth-
not effervescent and bright, like soda
but rich and hearty, with substance-
that belly-laugh of a baby.

He leans into her stroller,
sweaty, tousled head close to hers,
makes a silly face and growls for her a second time.
She rewards him once again with that amazing laugh.
Now he laughs too, delighted with his new-found ability
to elicit this big response from such a small person.
He looks at me for approval, his blue eyes merry
and, infected, I laugh too,
with joy at the pleasure they find in each other.

And so we make our somewhat awkward way through the store-
growl, chuckle, growl, chuckle…giggle giggle.
We earn a few odd looks
but most people smile- a reflexive human response
to the sound of a laughing baby.

Small children don't laugh sardonically, or at someone else's expense
they only can laugh from joy.
What an amazing thing, that such a new person
who only recently learned not to poke herself in the eye with her own fingers
already knows such joy.
So we treasure that sound, because it means that
whatever problems there are in the world,
right here, in this small moment,  life is good.

After a few minutes' distraction, he  remembers, growls again,
and right on cue that rich laughter pours forth
like lovely chicken soup,
warm and nourishing
and I have to wipe my eyes
because the moment is keen as glass.

Friends, siblings, future companions on the family journey
through the good stuff and all the bad that awaits us-
I hope they retain, somewhere in their souls,
a memory of this time
when they were each others’ favorite plaything.
I don’t know what the future holds,
but for now, there is joy enough,
love enough to brighten the whole world
in the belly laugh of my happy baby.