The origin of my story is about birthmarks …and the story goes something like this:
Most of us have a collection of some sort - books; butterflies; china; depression glass; tea tins; etc. Mine - and it is modest - happens to be Scottie dogs. I've never had a Scottie dog but I have. I suppose I've totally confused you…let me explain:
When my mother was pregnant with me, a Scottie dog jumped on the back of her left thigh…and startled her, of course. My godmother, who witnessed the event, said to my mom: "Oh Lil, the baby's going to be marked!" "Phooey!" my mom replied and dismissed it as an old wives' tale.
Fast forward: Shortly after I was born and just a few days old, my godmother was bathing me while my mom rested. My godmother let out a little shriek and my mom ran - probably not too fast - into the room, thinking I'd fallen or something, I guess. "Oh Lil, look!" she cried and pointed to a birthmark on the back of my left thigh. Yep, there as plain as day - and still here, best I can tell, is a birthmark that indeed looks like a Scottie dog. I kid not…but can't share, obviously. My mom never did buy into the story but she enjoyed telling it…of course, always prefacing it with "I don't believe in old wives' tales, but…"
And since we're on the subject of Bs and babies, I couldn't resist sharing this latest photo of bébé Chris and his brushes - as he's getting ready to go: a toothbrush in his mouth - brushing his 1-2 teeth no doubt with one hand and a hair brush in the other hand. Go bébé Go! You're mighty handsome there, pal!
What's your A - Z story? Enjoy the holiday!