When I was born, the first words my father exclaimed were "We got a girl!"
The remark that immediately followed was "She's got Marty's [his brother] ears."
Nearly twenty five years later, on our honeymoon, Ryan and I stopped in the Bay Area on our way from Lake Tahoe to the Redwoods. We stayed in his parents' house (I know, lame to be a frugal honeymooner). I came bounding, pony-tailed, down the stairs of my in-laws' house and Ryan's mother, never having had a direct view before, squeaked "Ryan! She's got lee-tle ears!"
Indeed I do. They have won me the affection of many a female, as we are all trained to respond squealingly to anything smaller-than-usual from our first days of life. Miniature shampoo bottles, tiny muffins, and my ears all transport us back to our dollhouse days. On a few occasions, the ladies have requested to fondle my tiny ears; who was I to deny them?
Yesterday, Jacki and Adri, my sister-in-law and niece, came over to stave off boredom while the men in our lives studied for finals. We played and chatted and peek-a-boo'ed for awhile and then Jacki noticed something worth noticing. Have a close look at the ears part of this picture:
That's right, friends. My ears are the same size as this toddler's. This eighteen-month-old human. I have always maintained that my ears were not so much cute as syndromey...but I may have to reassess my position.
Now here's another picture of Adri so you can pass out upon beholding this, the Ultimate Cute: