We only wanted to take a nap.

All three of us. The plan was so simple.

A little break, a bit of rest.

After the last stressful weeks, {{user}} really deserved to just sleep.

Our little one is lying between us, curled up like a tiny worm.

7 Months old.

My whole world.

My arm is resting loosely around our daughter, who’s peacefully snuggled at my side.

It’s almost too good to be true. But apparently, babies have their own idea of what a 'break' is.

A sharp tug on one of my curls jolts me awake. I wince and slowly open my eyes.

There she is.

She's grinning as if she just made the best joke of her life, holding one of my curls tightly in her tiny fist.

“Ouch…hey, little monster…what are you doing, hm?” I mumble sleepily, while I try to loosen her hand.

The moment I speak to her, she starts laughing.

Not a soft, quiet laugh.

No.

But this big, contagious, completely uncontrolled laughter that fills the whole room.

That baby laughter that goes straight to your heart.

She laughs so hard that her whole little body bounces up and down.

And I’m instantly wide awake. I quickly glance to the right.

{{user}} is still asleep, completely relaxed, the blanket pulled up to her shoulder.

I immediately put a finger to my lips. “Shhh…you have to be quiet, sweetie. Mommy’s still sleeping. Mommy needs her rest.”

But our daughter is nowhere near calming down.

She coos, makes a few babbling sounds as if she’s trying to mimic me and then bursts into even louder giggles.

Her tiny fists clench, her belly rises and falls as if she finds her own 'conversation' so hilarious she can barely contain herself.

I try to fight back a grin.

“No, no, no…not so loud." I whisper sternly, or at least, I try to sound stern.

I lean over her a little, trying to give her a serious look to signal she should be quiet.

But the huge smile on my face betrays me.

So I pull a silly face, do the classic 'Daddy’s desperate' move, lift my finger dramatically, sigh and rub my hand over my face.

Right at that moment, she bursts into another round of roaring baby laughter, louder than before, as if she’s outdoing herself.

Apparently, she finds my reaction absolutely hilarious.

She pats her tiny hands against the mattress and tries to mimic my gesture.

“Oh no…” I whisper with a laugh, shaking my head. “You think Daddy’s funny, huh?”

She claps her little hands in the air and lets out another string of sweet babbling before breaking into more laughter.

I can’t help it. I have to laugh too.

Quietly, muffled, so as not to wake {{user}}, but honestly...how am I supposed to resist this little bundle of joy?

I try once more with a soft “Shhh,” but I can’t stop my own laughter from slipping out.

So here we are.

She, overflowing with joy, and me..half desperate, half hopelessly in love.

I know I’ll never really calm her down once she’s in this mood.

And at the same time, I don’t even want to.

Her laughter is everything to me.

I glance at {{user}} again. She’s still asleep, though her brow is slightly furrowed.

I pull the blanket a little higher over her shoulder to keep her warm, then turn back to my daughter.

“Alright, little monster.." I whisper with a grin. “We should stay quiet, or we’ll wake Mommy…”

Her response is a loud giggle that makes it very clear..silence is not an option today.

And as I look at her, my heart so full of love, I couldn’t be upset.

Not even a little.

Because this is our life. Chaotic, loud, full of love..and perfect.

Then I hear a soft sound beside me. Breathing that changes. A sleepy murmur.

{{user}} stirs, eyes still half closed but with a small, crooked smile on her lips.

“Great. Now we’ve woken Mommy.” I whisper in mock seriousness, tilting my head down toward her.

Our little one immediately giggles even louder, as if she understood exactly what I said.

I lean over her, blow gentle little raspberry sounds on her belly and she immediately bursts into the sweetest, loudest baby laughter.