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I Think She Has My Nose?

What's All This Talkin' About?As soon as you have a baby, often right after he/she is still sitting in the incubator, umbilical cord still dangling, covered in blood, that a question is posed.  It is a question that gets repeated incessantly, by both family and stranger alike.  It is a question that inevitably leads to a flurry of digging through old boxes, consulting of distant relatives, and expensive expert analysis.  All to determine the answer to one thing.

“Who does your baby look like?”

We get this constantly, and frankly it’s becoming a bit annoying.  Look, I understand that this child we brought into the world is made up of a combination of both my wife and my DNA (allegedly), and thus shares traits from both of us.  Thus conceivably she could have “my nose,” or my wife’s “eyebrows,” or my “smug sense of self-satisfaction and loathing for the DMV.”  The problem is that the answer to this simple question is neither simple nor obvious.  And yet that doesn’t stop friends, family, or even random strangers at the supermarket from pondering the question.

In some cases I have seen obvious examples of parent/child similarities.  My boss’s second child, for example, is a dead ringer for him, right down to the way he laughs when I ask for a day off.  One of my brother’s sons is becoming indistinguishable from childhood pictures of my brother from the 70s.  My pet starfish’s severed tentacle is starting to grow into exactly the same shape as its mutilated parent.

But in our case it’s hard to say.  We’ve combed through our childhood pictures, looking for recognizable facial features, but they just don’t seem to be there.  I mean, obviously Justine has inherited my radiant smile, fantastic looks and sunny disposition, as well as Kim’s ability to sneeze, but none of these things has a direct correlation feature-wise to what we looked like back then.  It’s mysterious and maddening, especially to that lady in the produce aisle who continuously accosts us about the issue.

Facial features aside, I will say, though, that people have agreed that Justine has inherited my fingers.  Apparently I have distinctly long fingers, with long wide nails.  I like to think that these serve a larger purpose – perhaps some day the fate of the world may rest upon my ability to reach a few millimeters farther up my nose than the average human – but for now I don’t get a lot of extra advantage from them. But it’s good to know that at least there is something recognizable from me present physically in my child.  And who knows, as time goes on, perhaps she’ll end up looking more and more like me.

And may God have mercy on her if she does.

In all honesty, despite all the speculation, I have my own personal theory as to who she looks like:

Side by Side

You be the judge.

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