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During Mabel's first year of life the taking of one Polaroid every day was an inviolable baby ritual for her mother. Early one morning in May of 2011 my daughter made this picture of Mabel half-standing on my lap, starting her day of investigation and play. At eight months (and not yet independently mobile) this child's preferred location was somebody's lap. From that position, she could command the greatest range of vicarious movement. Me, in particular, it seemed, she regarded as a large animated robot programmed to do her bidding. With a bit of pressure from her tiny starfish hands she could mobilize my large-scale grasping appendages and direct them toward any purpose she pleased. There were many such mornings with Mabel in the course of that fortunate, memorable stretch of time taking care of her.