Because Evelyn doesn’t talk, we use a mix of gestures, badly mangled sign language and miscommunication.
This morning, we were working on body parts.
“Eve, where’s your tummy?”
She pulls up her tshirt and points.
“Where’s your feet?”
She lifts them up and wiggles them at me.
“Where are your hands?”
She waves them in my face.
“Where is your nose?”
Evelyn looks stricken. She turns around, looking around the room frantically.
Then, wide-eyed, she lifts her hands up and does our universal sign for “OH NO!” (Both hands placed on her head dramatically)
“Is your nose lost?” I ask.
She widens her eyes even further, and signs “OH NO!” again.
Evelyn has lost her nose. I suspect her Uncle David has it.
Comments
9 responses to “The curious case of the disappearing nose”
Of course he does, He is ALWAYS stealing the children’s noses.
You have such a beautiful little girl there.x
Lovely photo … she is gorgeous 🙂
Oooh… I miss that little face.
“aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh BOO!”
Did she giggle?
xxxx
Oh she is gorgeous.!
It’s something about uncles. They’re ALWAYS stealing noses!
Maybe I should be glad Q’s are so far away then.
Come on Uncle David, put that cute little nose back where it belongs.
Reading your story and the other entries to this post, tonight, was such a delight.
It was so nice to *chuckle* over it, I’m sure my eyes lit up.
I’m fuzzily thinking, that there is a delish, Dr Seuss, or someone’s silly, fun poem, about noses – existing somewhere.
Uncle David!