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.

tickle time

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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