To the naked eye, the are index fingers. They’re also often known as pointers.

To you, that is. And to most grown ups.

Tonight in our home they became something else. As if by magic, my two ordinary index fingers became Tickle Bugs!

Having our pre-bedtime play, we were bouncing on my bed. Great fun for Bubba, a good workout for mumma.

Who needs the gym when I have a toddler? Dressing her a couple of times each day is like a wrestling match. She is a good little weight to lift each day, even if she’s a little light in her class. And lunging down to pick up everything we drop (I’m so clumsy and she – well, she is a toddler, and toddlers drop [aka throw] things for sport) while balancing this precious weight is as tricky a lunge exercise as you’ll get!

Bubba is one ticklish Love Bug.

At one point she was crawling away from me to hide among the pillows, and I was gaining on her. She lost concentration and rolled onto her back. She lay rigid and watched my hands intently until I pointed my index fingers and tickled her. Again. And again. Giggles shook her whole body, squeals of delight filled the air.

A few moments later, all I had to do was extend my fingers and point them close to her underarms and she fell about laughing. I did it again a little later on the couch: same effect on Bubba.

And so, the Tickle Bugs have moved into our home. I think they’re here to stay.

At least for the next 18 years or so.