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"You are my toy, my toy, my toy", I murmured as I was playing with my 8months old son. To all of us he has become like a live toy - everybody has his / her own antic doings with him. And his laughter at those things are like melody to our ears and treat for our eyes.
Now he is learning to sit and I play what has become his favourite game of late. If he remains in his sitting position for some time I just put my index finger on his forehead and give a little gentle push. He really enjoys the falling down from that position. I have to take extra care that I don't end up applying a lot of pressure or that there is a pillow behind etc etc. But now we both have mastered the game and he bursts into laughter whenever I play it with him.
Few days back we were playing this game and just when I had pushed him and he fell on his pillow I received a phone call. It was from my father who was unwell. So I decided to take the call. Suddenly my son started crying. He was crying so loud that my father at the other end of the phone also got terrified. He told me that he had not called for anything important and advised me to attend my son.
I was scared to the core thinking that I might have ended up hurting him while playing. I took him on my lap but he just won't stop. Now I became a little thoughtful. "Is it hurting him that much? I can't see any tear coming out". I put him down on bed and just clapped to cheer him up.
"Heh he, heh he" - that giggle was back.
Thinking that he is fine now I just stopped and oh no!!! that loud cry started again. I clap he giggles, I stop he cries.
I realized how my son is "using" me for his entertainment. I have to shake it like Shakira, sway it like Deepika's latest Raabta song and what not so that he is pleased. The moment I stop it seems the world has stopped for him. And I very well now know what his giggles mean. He laughs and perhaps says to himself "I am not the toy, actually you all are my toys".