Baby

Baby

I must confess to something.

And I’m ashamed to admit it.

It happened recently when I was looking at my mother’s face. 

I love her face. It’s definitely one of my top five faces to look at. 

I say five, but I don’t know how much that is.

Anyway, I was looking at her face. It’s a good one to reach out and grab, particularly the thing in the middle which I’m told is called a nose.

So, I reached out to touch it. 

Then something weird happened.

One moment her face was there.

Then, the next moment it had gone. 

I don’t know what had happened, but her face had just gone.

GONE.

Was it because I touched it?

Well, I had no time to ask because the next moment her face came back!

“Booo!” she loudly cried.

Now, this is the part I’m ashamed to admit. But in the heat of the moment I’m afraid to say that I laughed.

I know. Awful, aren’t I? 

My poor mother, suffering from some horrific vanishing condition, and I laugh in her face.

Unfortunately, this has happened a number of times recently. Maybe five.

And I’ve laughed every single time.

I’m worried about her and this face-disappearing-thing. So, if you get this message, can you check that she is ok?

Also, can you ask her to stop trying to steal my nose? She has her own.

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