I'm a ticklish person, but I don't really like to be tickled. I have yucky memories of being a kid and getting tickled well past the point of something pleasant -- yelling and sobbing, asking the tickler to stop. The tickler was usually one of my older cousins, who would claim when taken to task, "But she's laughing! She enjoys it!"
Yes, I was laughing, but I couldn't help it! I wish now I'd replied by pointing out that I had also rolled myself into a ball and was trying desperately to escape. Didn't you notice? Who could possibly enjoy such torture? Especially under the armpits. To this day I will still jerk away violently whenever anybody tries to touch me there.
Long before I had my own kids, I vowed that I would never over-tickle them and would never permit others to, either.
In fact, I realize now, this has led to me hardly ever tickling my own children at all. Which is sad.
I realized this a few nights ago, when BB laid herself over my lap and S's lap (we were sitting next to each other on the couch) and asked to be tickled. S got to it, and BB had a big grin on her face, giggling and obviously enjoying it. I joined in, a little hesitant, but was soon having fun too.
Then I stopped, not wanting to overdo anything. BB's response? She laid herself down in our laps again, stretched her arms up high over her head, and announced in a sing-song voice, "Many tickle spots are available!"
I think I can stop worrying about over-tickling my daughter.