Mom 

When I was born, she always tells me, she held me in her arms and kissed my forehead over and over and said, “I hope you like kisses, because you have a very kissy mommy!” I probably squinted or something. In ensuing years, she proved that she was serious about this, not just about the kissing but about the kissing on the forehead, specifically, which she did so much that I’m surprised I don’t have a little dent in my head. She took to squeezing my shoulders when she did it, too, like she was trying to get the last bit of toothpaste out of me...

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