>I love Josh. A lot. More than I ever thought I could love someone who isn’t related to me. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do things that make me shake my head in wonder. Bewildered wonder. For instance, when Josh is deep in thought, reading The Nation or Slashdot or engaging in his bromance with his bearded doppelgangers, he blows bubbles. You know, the kind of bubbles where you gently part your lips forming a perfect, soft bubble that gently billows out catching the light just so….The kind of bubbles that usually catch a dirty look from me as well, because, yes, Josh blows spit bubbles.
Well, it seems that the apple doesn’t far fall from the tree:
While there don’t seem to be any teeth in sight, the drool is coming on strong. And with it, the bubbles. Eames’s clothes are often soaked through from the neckline to the belly button. The ‘wet spot’ has taken on new meaning. Specifically, it is now the spot that graces the shoulder of anyones who has dares to hold Eames for 12 seconds or longer; also, it is the spot that appears after you have picked him up off the bed/ground/blanket, etc. Indeed, it is concrete evidence that Eames has been in the vicinity.
No number of dirty looks or long-suffering sighs will deter him. I’ve given up on changing his clothes every hour or two. Instead, I let him air dry during naps.
In the battle of nature vs. nurture, well, chalk one up to genetics in this round.