She laughed for the first time the day before yesterday. Panini’s mom had been handing Teenie puffs to eat. “How many puffs?” she had asked. “One puff. Two puffs.” And then that surprising, low chuckle. I was holding her facing out, couldn’t verify except through questioning that the sound was indeed a laugh. She repeated again for Ami but only looked at me curiously when I brought her to the mirror for an encore.
Now she naps on me, knocked out by her meal. But her sleep is uneasy, interrupted by little movements, her chin tucking in, a flutter of the eyelids.