This morning I was wakened by fat little baby hands beating on my arms to a resounding chant of “Da da da da da.” It was such a wonderful moment that I didn’t want to open my eyes. It’s one of those you wish you can bottle and keep forever, to be used when the going is rough.

When I rolled over, the baby promptly ruined it by reaching into my mouth and trying to pull out my tongue. This is why I had wanted to bottle the previous moment.

This got me thinking, as did watching the wonderful film Amelie last night. There are hundreds of tiny moments day to day that we take for granted and forget, choosing to focus on the dank and dreary, hum-drum moments that seem to depress us so.

It’s the little things in life that bring us joy. Not an anamorphic 16X9 television, though it would help.

What little things do you cherish, without realizing it?

When I crawl into bed, next to my sleeping wife, she instinctively snuggles up to me.

The baby often kisses my chin, very sloppily.

The opening moments of a movie in a silent, dark theater.

Walking out of a summer matinee into the bright, warm sunlight.

Matilda telling me a wild story that may or may not be true. In fact, at that moment she may or may not be Matilda.

The hazy fog of a summer morning.

The way the sheets feel when you first wake up.

Those moments right before sleep when reality and dream have no boundaries.

A sleepy baby cuddled up on my shoulder, eyes drooping.

The feeling of cool grass on bare feet.

The smell of a freshly opened book.

Opening the shrink-wrap on a new CD.

The smell of a wood fire.

Reading one of the books Matilda has written on her own.

The smell of the baby’s hair buds after a bath.

Pool chlorine on a hot summer’s day.

The first taste of a Guinness after a long wait.

The anticipation when the house lights go out at a concert, moments before the band hits the stage.

Pushing a stroller through the park while Matilda regales me with her tales of wizarding at the tender age of seven.

Telling Matilda that the Who’s “The Seeker” is about Quiddich. And her believing me.

Family hugs.

Popsicles dripping down your hand.

Reading a book for the fifth time and feeling as if you’ve gone home.

Those first few moments when you see a friend after a long absence.

Finding a letter addressed to you in the mailbox.

Being greeted with a cheerful, “Daddy!”

Chubby baby legs.

It doesn’t matter what they are. These are the tiny things that bring you joy. Don’t forget them. Take a moment to notice. Forget the fact that your boss is about to be a huge jerk in the meeting you’re entering. Instead, notice the hiss of air escaping from the padded chair.

Our time with each other is much too short. People float in and out of our lives faster than we can ever imagine. One moment we’re 12 and playing in a creek, the next we’re pushing 30 and staring at our kids as they sleep.

Life isn’t what you make of it. Life just is. Life is all that goes on around you. Everything else is just an ancillary.

Enjoy those little moments. Because when you’re 90, sitting in wheel chair, someone will ask you what the best day of your life was. You’ll think a moment and smile as memories come flooding back. Sights, smells, tastes emotions.

“It was a Thursday,” you’ll say. “Definitely a Thursday.”