This week, I've been busy teaching my son to touch his nose when I say "Hatchling, where's your nose?" An unfortunate by- product of his new skill is that, in his haste to show me he knows the answer to this question, unlike so many others I ask him each day, he usually ends up sticking his index finger so far up a nostril that at least one knuckle disappears. C’ est la vie…

I've also been trying to teach him where his mouth is, as he did so well with nose, but it seems he can't differentiate between the two yet. I think we'll move on to tummy tomorrow. As obvious as that feature is, it should be easy for him to remember. Then again, if we are going to go with that line of reasoning, I shouldn't be surprised if old women at Wal- Mart come up to me and say "Ma'am, where's your cellulite?,” in which case, I would immediately point to my thighs.

The best thing about our new game is how happy Hatchling is when he does something I want him to do. He is so delighted with himself that he claps his pudgy little hands and laughs until he loses his balance and falls over. That's when I take the opportunity to scoop him up and cuddle him, which he doesn’t often allow. Naturally, I think it’s the best game ever.