His fingers. My nose. Her self.
Aaaarrrrgh. I can’t do it. I can’t limit myself to just six words. See? Here I am rambling on, belaboring you with the curse of my verbosity. I don’t even really have a point to this rambling but to confess that I tried to tackle the challenge of writing about a significant part of my life using just six words. And I failed. I’m up to 72 already. Well, just six, if you subtract the meaningless rambles. All that to say, Little Friend inspired my abbreviated memoir. The other day she informed me, “EB call self ‘EB.'” I’ll add two words of my own to make that statement a second memoir: “Love her.”