I first posted this photo back in December, but I'm revisiting it today because it illustrates something that makes me smile.

One of the people I follow on Twitter asked this question yesterday: "Why . . . do babies enjoy being thrown in the air? How terrifying would it be if a giant repeatedly tossed you above their head?" When you stop and think about it, she's got a point. If some twelve-foot-tall man picked me up and threw me in the air, I'd probably find it pretty frightening.

Look at Jason in that picture, though. You can see from his face that he's having a good time. But look at his hands, too, and you'll see something else: absolute trust. He's not even trying to hold on, because it doesn't even occur to him that Juliette might let him fall.

Even when I actually toss him up so that he's no longer touching my fingertips, he never gets scared, never tries to grab on or secure himself, never has a moment's doubt that I will catch him. He squeals with delight, spreading his arms and legs wide as though he can fly. And when I finally get winded and have to take a break, he shouts "Again! Again!"

To be trusted so completely, to know that he knows he can count on me, it's a wonderful feeling. I hope I never give him a reason to stop.