A baby who can't stop smiling

Back in mid-May, we blogged about how we would go into occasional paroxysms of pleasure whenever our then-less-than-a-month-old son let slip a fleeting smile (click here for that post). These occasions were then the flowering of a rare blossom, a window into a future when a little thing that was essentially a crying, eating and sleeping houseplant would begin to interact more actively with people.

Well, whole fields of the smile-flower spring up ceaselessly these days, and sometimes it can seem rather a wild weed. Sonny, now pushing into his sixth month, isn't just flashing toothless grins at every other person he comes into contact with. He gurgles with apparent pleasure, batters his feet at the floor and emits piercing baby-shrieks as though he's won some huge diaper lottery. He gets so excited when a new face hovers into view, he can't keep his food down - to the horror of vomit-averse Mum. As far as we can tell, the only person Sonny doesn't automatically go into smile-like-mad mode for is Mum (which, as you can imagine, does not amuse her one bit).

Anyway, we're told that we should be grateful for being dealt an essentially good-natured young fella by Fate. We've even been congratulated by a security guard who thinks we had executed a cunning strategy from the start - of taking Sonny out on regular excursions so as to familiarise him with a revolving-door of strangers and fresh experiences ("Some babies, they're kept cooped up at home so much, they bawl when they see a foreign face or enter foreign surroundings", we were told approvingly. We lapped up the undeserved compliment and scooted guiltily off). But we're figuring that it's early days yet. Cheery toddlers can become glum two-year-olds, or six-year-olds or what have you. Just like sourpuss infants might cast off their ill humour with time.

Further, we figure that having a relentlessly cheery disposition needs to be coupled with an ability to realistically appraise the situation before one. Optimism can shade into a dangerous blindness to threats, after all; pessimists, at least, are proof against this sort of blundering good-naturedness. It's all right to be always ready with a sunny smile and upbeat remark for all and sundry - but one should remember that not every stranger can be trusted, or be trusted under all circumstances, and that sometimes things can be truly sobering, or dire, or worrying.

But that's for later. At the moment, we'll take smiles over tears any day. Though Mum would still rather more of the former were flashed her way.