At least, that what Berto seems to think. You see, he's six months old. He's still new to this whole "physical bodies" thing. I look the same most every day. I'm one of those boring moms who has about three hairstyles and four outfits that I rotate through. And, let's face it, a good portion of his waking hours is spent staring at bosom.
But when he does look at eyes, they are always framed. That is, until today. Partway through his pre-dinner meltdown, he managed to hook his fingers around my glasses and flail at just the right angle that they flew across the room. It took him a couple of seconds to notice, but once he did, he froze. You know that scene in Aristocats when all the alley cats are attacking Edgar and he's whipping is arms and legs around, flinging the cats all around the barn, and Roquefort yells for them to be quiet? That's how he froze. One arm was thrown back over his head, one was reaching out to the side, his mouth was twisting in fury, but his eyes were wide open and staring at me like I was the crazy one. And he held that pose for about five seconds.
Ever so slowly, his arms and face relaxed, but those eyes just kept staring. Eventually he reached up to my face (I swear the kid didn't blink for a good minute) and started feeling around, verifying that I was me. He kept totally silent as he stuck his tiny fists into my eyes, my hair, my mouth. I could see his little cogs working so hard, trying to figure out what was going on. It was after about three minutes of exploring that he finally, tentatively, grabbed my face and pulled my chin into his mouth. He sucked once (yeah, he's weird), sucked twice (and yet, he doesn't like pacifiers?) and pulled back and gave me a huge smile. He laughed and babbled and whacked my face, finally certain that I was his beloved nourisher.
Moral of the story: if you ever find yourself unsure of a person's true identity, suck their chin.
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