I never think about my elbow. But my elbow fascinates Laci. That little flap of skin that appears when I straighten my arm. When we lay in bed and watch TV at night, she plays with that little flap. It's like when people twirl their hair. She plays with my elbow. I have a scar on one elbow from when I was 4 years old and fell backwards off a picnic table onto a patio. My elbow has history. I feel like there should be a deep metaphor about the example I need to set because my daughter sees all of me, not just the parts I think about or know. She sees all of me - my good parts and my faults. My face that I show the world and my elbow that is never seen or looked at by anyone but her. Maybe there is a deep metaphor and lesson in there. Or maybe she just likes to play with that little flap of skin on my elbow.
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