The Gentle Touch

Let me tell you that when she was screaming bloody murder at 35,000 feet, I was thinking otherwise, but Muffin is growing up to be a most considerate, sweet-hearted little girl. During our trip to Chicago for Thanksgiving, she mingled with her cousins peacefully, gave stickers to everyone she met, and even started saying thank you, or in her case, gay goo.

Muffin’s new favorite word is baby, and like legions of females before her, she turns into a puddle in their presence. Although they are hardly babies anymore, Lil C and Miss M are both younger than she is, and she treated them with a big-sisterly patience and protectiveness. I was shocked at how little controversy even the super-cool Disney Cars Ride-On caused between the three of them, and how often Muffin would walk over to one of her cousins and willingly hand them a toy. Even better, they truly seemed to finally interact on this visit; Muffin and Miss M kept engaging in call-and-response giggle fits, and Lil C even got a goodnight hug.

Muffin reserved the most love for my brother's three-year-old dog, who has bone cancer and had had her leg amputated the week before. Muffin didn't notice the shaved hind quarters or the unsightly stitches, and every time she saw the dog she let out a delighted, "ooohhhh." The day we left, I saw her give the dog three hugs and one kiss -- her new world record for affection. It's as if, somehow, she understood that she should bestow her cuddles on the soul who needed it most.