Before she ever learned the comparatively obscure locations of her "bump" and "gyna," Addison was fascinated by the bits popularized by Mr. Potatohead (no, I'm not talking about that trap-door in his behind). The nose was an obvious one, since mine is quite long and pointy, and rather prominent. In fact, she'd had a relationship with my nose almost from the beginning:
Ears were next, and you'll note that mine stick out a little further than average:
Really, it's like the bumps and holes on my head were designed uniquely for a baby's learning pleasure. Lots of places to fit a skinny finger into a skinny hole. Squeeze the right thing, and you get a sound. Poke the right thing, and you get a different, louder sound. I should charge money to let babies feel my face, maybe market myself for Fisher Price:
Of course, it's all fun and games until you get your eye clawed out by a ten-pound ninja assassin. She didn't know any better; I can imagine her waving her fingers in the air proudly as though she had olives on her fingers. Fill in my eyes for the olives, and I hope it makes you cringe a little, just like I did.
