Everest didn’t really connect with the opera until, about two-thirds into the show, he finally got his hands on a pair of glasses. Up until that point, he was finding “BambinO” a bit difficult. The music was a touch too intense, the plot too enigmatic and the other babies perplexing.

“BambinO,” at the Met through Saturday, is a 40-minute opera created just for 6- to 18-month-olds. Everest is my 9-month-old baby, and the glasses in question weren’t theater spectacles, but rather my own pair of prescription specs that currently function as a sort of hard plastic Tom Ford teddy bear.

Once in possession of his beloved lenses, happily flapping them about, he was able to enjoy the spectacle. And what a spectacle it is.

Babies are allowed to roam freely across a stage that’s painted like a sky and covered with pillows. Two performers, decked out in ruffles and feathers, interact with the children as they sing a mostly wordless story with bits of Italian. They never speak directly to the kids or offer patronizing instructions or explanations, as you might expect.

Overwhelmed by it all, Everest spent most of the show on my lap, clinging to me, taking it all in and letting out the occasional cry. But, that’s OK, according to the show’s director, Phelim McDermott.

“That’s what you’re supposed to do when you go to the opera, you get emotional and you cry,” he says.

Soprano Charlotte Hoather, who plays a bird who finds a golden egg, says she doesn’t alter her performance style much for pint-sized Puccini lovers.

“We sing the same, unless we’re really, really close [to a child],” she says. “It’s like a proper opera and a real experience.”

But the diapers set can be a particularly challenging audience.

“With babies … you can’t drop the ball,” says McDermott. “They’ll just get really bored really quickly, they’ll start crying. Whereas … adults will sit there disappointed but they won’t make noise.”

Baritone Timothy Connor, who also plays a bird, notes that there are some technical challenges that come with having 25 babies crawling about.

“It’s kind of like [flying into] JFK, [while] dodging laser beams,” he says.

The free show, a commission from the Scottish Opera, has been performed throughout Europe and the slots quickly booked up for its NYC run.

“[Babies] in Paris, are really reserved and they take it all in,” Hoather says. New York babies, by contrast, are more bold. “They’re confident, straight away. I loved it, they were in the space!”

The show concludes with a lovely moment. A flock of new birds hatch and Connor and McDermott hand out small, stuffed chirping toys to the kids.

Previously, when Connor was singing “Uooovvvooooo,” nearly in his face, Everest hadn’t known what to make of the singer, with his ruffly shirt and blue-painted eyebrows. But, when Connor approached with a plush peace offering, he was mesmerized. Maybe Everest was finally able to appreciate the beauty of the opera. Maybe he was just happy to have a colorful new toy. Either way, bravo.