Dear J,

“Can I have a kiss? Can I have a kiss?” she asks you again and again and I’m not sure whether you’re leaning in or just off-balance, but your lips press hard into her face and she laughs in delight. Your fingers yank on her hair and touch her mouth. She gives you kisses in return.

As you lock your knees and stick your little butt into the air, we marvel at the seeming confidence with which you move your body. You hum and sing and wiggle and your mother cries out to me, “Look at him!” with a smile on her face.

I sit across the room, on my computer, typing out this scene as it plays out before me, wondering whether I’m preserving this memory or missing it. You now are lying on the ground and W places herself behind you to try and nip at your feet, which are always in motion: great target practice for our pup.

I would make this letter longer but your mom just asked me if I would be on “J Duty” so she can get a moment to herself for the first time today. Of course, as she says this, you almost roll over from back to belly for the first time and she gets drawn right back in, like a ship sinking into the center of a whirlpool. I feel that same pull and lean in closer.

Yours,

Papa