A Daughter Grows

A feisty little personality is beginning to emerge from this daughter of ours. All of a sudden, she has strong likes {Mama's homemade vegetable soup, showers, hide and seek with Nico} and dislikes {having her face wiped clean, when she's not fed quickly enough, getting woken up before she's ready to face the day}, and she has no trouble whatsoever letting everyone know. Her joy now manifests in deep jolly belly laughs, and its kind of the most amazing sound I've ever heard in all of my days. I look at her and I see not a baby, but a brown-haired little girl. Part of me wants to stop time this very second, and hold onto my babe forever. But another part of me just can't wait to see my little bird grow into a full-fledged New Yorker. At any rate, she is definitely becoming quite the Daddy's girl. Those two, let me tell you: they are two peas from the same pod, two pierogies from the same pot, two scoops of Chunky Monkey from the same pint. Give the girl a full belly and her Papa (preferably playing his guitar), and she's the happiest baby in all of Brooklyn. And Gaby is one happy Papa, too.