Boob and Hairy

Vivian has met less that a hundred people, most of them only once. She's seen Grandma, Nicolle, the Shahs, and a few others maybe twice. If space in Vivian's temporal lobe is given out in proportion to how often she's seen a face, most people get spots the size of Lichtenstein. Then, I'd like to think, there are Alaska and Texas-sized areas for Boob and Hairy.

She sees them a lot. Boob feeds and comforts her. Hairy changes diapers. She recognized Boob right away, having spent considerably longer inside her than outside. There was that deep penetrating gaze and high-bandwidth exchange between them when she got out.

She's not that sure about Hairy. He seems to hang around Boob. He isn't exactly comfortable. And he certainly ain't edible. She mostly meets him at the changing table. She's beginning to see a pattern - Hairy has something to do with her pooping. Therein lies the fundamental basis for an endearing relationship.

Vivian got the hiccups. That happens a lot. She heard Hairy suggest a system that involved two straws, and a half filled breast. Luckily, Boob patted her and she was fine.

The other day Vivian had a nightmare. What if there was only one - a Hairy Boob?