Crooked Pinkies by Laurie Kolp The man behind the mall’s post office kiosk asks to see my pinky. I always wave to him while wrapping up my daily walks, passing by my final lap before I exit through the West Hall entrance. Quizzically, I show him my pinky as if I were in grade school, flashing my inny belly button to a boy. See how it’s crooked? Just wait until the baby’s born. I bet its pinky will be crooked, or at least another random quirk like curling tongues. Mine a curlicue I roll right through my puckered lips. It’s kind of creepy how our babies clone the weirdest things, pick up mannerisms you think your own, then eventually outgrow you. Sometimes you might even wonder if they’re really your kid. When that happens remember your pinky finger. Her fist rippling across my belly as if to say just wait and see. Gyroscope Review 23 !