The Timeless Tickle

As a little girl, I loved to be tickled. My mom says my dad would tickle and tickle and tickle me until I’d finally say, “Stop!” Then I’d take a deep breath, and say, “Again!” And, of course, he’d oblige.

Why not? Who wouldn’t want to be the one bringing such pure joy to a child? I can imagine my dad’s great big grin and silly faces. I can imagine feeling like I couldn’t take one more second, but at the same time never wanting it to end. I can imagine feeling so completely safe that I didn’t question letting go.

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Now I’m on the other side of the tickles. My baby girl, “Pink”, loves it. She wiggles, squirms, squeals with excitement, then eventually says, “No, no, no.” She takes a deep breath, looks my way, and says, “More!” And, of course, I oblige.

Yes, the tickle is timeless. And I’m pretty sure I love it as much as she does.

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