Tickle Me Bea.

Bea’s still not saying a whole lot, but every once in a while she surprises me.

As Bea lay down on her mattress and I wriggled her out of her sleepy suit, readying her to face the day in one of Sam’s cast off Spring garments freshly dug out of storage she grinned back up at me. “Tickle! Tickle!” she giggled as her face light up in happiness and her little chubby fingers clutched and patted her belly and thighs.

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