The Pure Pleasure of Existence

Following my 1-year old baby cousin around the house, we open and close the cabinets.

A click signals the release of the magnet that keeps the door latched. The door swings open, guided by a bundle of pudgy little fingers. Not yet sure of himself, he wobbles and toddles before looking up at me, seeming to communicate, “Look! Isn’t this cool? It was closed, and now it’s open!”

Then he quickly slams the door back in place, the magnet clicks again to confirm this reality. Now the other door of this two-sided contraption must be opened!

Click. Wobble. Creak.

“Open!” dad states authoritatively.

Whoosh. Slam.

“Shut!”

Baby looks over at dad and laughter sprouts from his throat. Curiosity shimmering in his eyes, he pulls the door open again and slams it shut.

“Open!” “Shut!” Dad follows along as predicted leading to another bout of laughter – the joy of discovery at the ability to command the voice of dad just by opening the cabinet door.

We play this game for a while. There are many variations. Sometimes the door is banged shut. Other times I worry those teeny tiny chubby little baby fingers will get caught in the door as he tries to close it slowly, slowly … until the magnetic force takes over and snaps the other half to itself.

There are plenty of other toys on shelves within reach and strewn about the floor in the play area in the corner, but this is the funnest game.