Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Tom Tinker

When Sister and I were bitty things, mom would hold us and rock us and say the following to us (while tracing her finger over the part of the face about which she was speaking):
Fore Acre (the forehead)
Eye Blinker (the right eye)
Tom Tinker (the left eye)
Nose Dropper (the nose)
Mouth Eater (the mouth)
Chin Chopper (the chin)
Giddy, Giddy Grasshopper (under the chin)

What seemed like a sweet little educational game was actually a ruthless game of cold-blooded suspense, the gentle tracing of the face parts leading up to a pants-wettin’ tickle under the chin.  We’d try to hold real still throughout the game, but by the time she’d get to Giddy, Giddy Grasshopper, we’d be dissolving into squeals and scrunching our chins as far down into our necks as we possibly could to avoid what was going to happen regardless of how chinless and neck-less we had managed to make ourselves. 

Listening to:  The Pretenders

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