Angeletta

Her thick sausage arms, too big for her tiny one year body, to reach out and grasp at my wispy seasonal changing hair, happy that I was finally at their house in Montclair, New Jersey.

"No, Angeletta! That hurts!" I squeal, but there's a hint of laughter in my voice as I untangle her little hands from my hair. Her mouth forms a little 'o' as her blue eyes grow wide with wonder. I throw my head back and laugh; the look on her face is priceless. It isn't her fault; she’s excited to see me and she's too young to understand that grabbing is not an appropriate way of saying hello.

"Is she bothering you? It's almost time for her nap anyway," her mother, Mary, calls from across the room.

"No, she's fine! Just a little grabby," I laugh as I scoop her up and bounce her on my hip. Mary smiles and I can see the hints of little wrinkles forming around her eyes, the same creases that Angeletta has when she laughs.

"You're so good with her; I can't believe she hasn't cried in the past hour. You're a miracle worker."

I hold Angeletta up and study her face, searching her big blue eyes and her chubby cheeks for a sign of discomfort. I find none. I honestly cannot believe that this girl has ever cried in her life-she looks too happy to shed a tear.

"Nope, no tears here!" I exclaim, excited that I seem to be doing well with her. I hope that our relationship will always stay this easygoing, but I know that at some point she'll lose her innocence and things will change. For now, I cherish her smile.