There is no "i" in ukulele*

Bah! What a week. Been in an allergenic fog for several days, but there's light at the end of the haze. Hope it's not an impending meteor or "Love Boat" marathon. That would just not be right.

Being unable to sleep half the time these past nights, my mind has wandered more than usual. Is it not a shame that growing up means losing our innocence? Yet, maybe it's not so bad when we truly aren't born innocent.

For example, take baby noises. From the get-go, babies are devious. They'll pass gas in a silent-but-deadly-way and make you think a new diaper is due, but it's all talk. Nosiree. Babies will wait until it's most embarassing to let 'em rip like beer-bellied bikers after a barbecue.

Baby laughter makes up for it, though. There is almost nothing quite as pure. When the Riblet gets rolling, it's hard to make him stop. The joy is clear in his still-blue eyes. He makes noises only R2D2 can detect, with squeaks and pops that will some day be replaced with a more mature chortle. A shame. Baby laughter is contagious.

The purest noise? It's an action, too. Babies are too little to know they need to back off a little. You might think the purest should be a pooter-tooter, had I not already covered that ground. After all, the wee ones' bums are dipe-clad, the ultimate safety net when things get productive. No, the purest is the sneeze. The Riblet gives it everything he has, not knowing his sinuses will smart after such power blows. Sneezing is still a novelty for him, and sometimes he'll laugh a little after. There's power in them thar headwinds.

You know this if a baby-sneeze has ever sent a bullet-like pacifier into your back. Ouch!

*The title of the post shows I've been delusional this week. I actually said this after some of us at work were talking about how important each member of the team is for our work to be completed.