Today she spit up in my face… and I couldn’t wait to tell my wife. I’m new to being alone with the little one, the three-month-old smallest member of my family, first child, my beautiful daughter. My wife is back to work, two days a week for starters, and trying to avoid daycare for as long as possible I’m doing my best to arrange my days off on the days that she works. I can’t stand the thought of my daughter crying in someone else’s arms with her mamãe and papãe nowhere nearby. But now that I’m alone with her, when she does cry I look around seeking the miracle of my absent wife’s presence. Nope. It’s just me and my little one. Working it out. And as I was saying, today she spit up in my face. I did a natural great job with the morning feeding, making her comfortable without benefit of breast, telling her what a good and beautiful girl she was, watching her suck blissfully on the bottle until it was all gone. Then when it was time for her burp I took her under the arms and lifted her toward my towel-covered shoulder. She gave me a funny look so I paused, face to face, and asked her What’s on your mind? That was when she spit up. And I couldn’t wait to tell my wife. I text-messaged her at work ASAP, and the phone rang 7 seconds later. “I wish I was there!” she said. “I wish I was there with a camera!” Isn’t it strange how something so disgusting is actually funny and cute when it happens with your baby. That’s a different kind of love then I’ve ever felt before.