My father, who used to hold Nora under the arms, a foot out from his body, with a look of terror on his face, shouting, "Do I still need to support her head? Do I still need to support her head?" was, by the end of our trip, picking up the baby at even the hint of a whine, taking her for a walk in her stroller when she was getting tired during our dinners out and happily blowing raspberries on her stomach, eliciting many laughs. Very good, Nonno. You have come a long way.