You know how all kids are born with noses that look like Cabbage Patch Kids' noses? You know, squishy and soft and all cartilege? It's scientific, really. And then there's a point when they have their real noses. Only, there must be a point when they are metamorphosizing from having the Cabbage Patch nose to having the Real nose. And there is no cocoon involved. So why don't we talk about this more? Because really and truly, I've been noticing a lot of change with Kid A's nose.
It's longer, for one thing. And when he makes that annoying sniffing sound that he does when he has a cold, you can see some definite boniness in the bridge. It's no longer as squishy. I take this as a sign that he's growing up. He's turning four next month, and he also always wants to know what highway we're on, and whether we need to turn onto any other roads to get where we're going. Bye bye silence in the car. He notices things like the fact that the sun is getting low, and there's going to be a sunset soon. And he's getting his Real nose. It's a big step.
Of course, in my family, there are three stages to the metamorphosis. My brother and sister would be the first ones to agree to this. We have the Cabbage Patch nose, the Real nose, and then dum da dum dum... the Puberty nose. The sad thing about the Puberty nose is that when it first emerges, it is too large for the face it is occupying. I mean, we all still have largish noses, but in those first days it was really shocking. I remember crying because a boy in my math class remarked in an incredibly loud and obnoxious voice that I had a huge honker. Boy, what a huge honker Rae has! Hardy har har. The Puberty nose is the reason that I spent all my rides to school on the City bus scheming a way to sit in the best possible seat for nose concealment. The very very best were the two back corner seats. It's still habit, I always will pick those seats, though now I couldn't care less about people seeing my nose. You may also look at my large feet, my crooked ears, and my sharp tooth.
I remember, though, those teenage years, when the nose seemed overwhelming and I looked at pictures of me with the cabbage patch nose and thought, "What happened? You started out so great."
The Puberty nose, like other aspects of puberty, comes a lot slower for boys than girls, so we pretty much thought that my brother had missed it. I traveled for the greater part of a year when I was eighteen and he was fourteen, and I remember how he opened the door when I got home and I just looked at him standing there, fully in the throes of the first stage, the one where it doesn't fit your face. "Oh Matt," I said, "you GOT it. I'm so sorry." Of course, now Matt's face has grown into its nose, and I would challenge any of you into a handsome brother duel if you so desire, but it was a sad time for poor Matt.
So, anyways, Kid A is getting his Real nose, and though I really hope for him that he takes after his dad and doesn't get the Puberty nose, I will be right here to help him through it if he does.