With a roguish tilt of his lips, he put his foot and arms down and stood tall. Then he proceeded to do the weirdest, most fascinating thing. With his tongue. His red, wet tongue slid up his upper lip as though he was about to lick it, but his tongue kept moving upward. Up and up until his tongue hit the tip of his nose. Holy Mother Teresa. How was he doing that? She stuck her tongue out. Maybe it wasn’t that hard. She’d just never tried it. Tara valiantly contorted her face and craned her neck, trying to copy the maneuver. It wasn’t easy. It was impossible. Her tongue just wasn’t long enough.
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