Ithu
Oviya was bathed, changed, and on her back swatting at the stuffed stars, moons, and sun dangling from the playpen that my parents had recently bought for her. While she is amazed by the hanging mobile from above her, I keep myself busy doing my research paper. She starts to squeal, producing high-pitched, happy sounds as she clumsily tries to grab hold of the toys I had scattered around her. Her happy wails force me to abandon my work and get down on the floor next to her to play with her. As I gaze down at her, she gifts me one of her wide, dimpled smiles.
"Hey, sweetheart, are you getting bored with these toys?" She gives me another one of her high-pitched squeals. "You wanna play peekaboo with Amma?"
She slaps her starfish hands on the floor of the playpen, kicking and flaili
