from "The Pride and the Glory of Peter T. Sheeple"

She was shaking my hand and saying, "Oh, you wouldn't remember me, but, I knew you when you were just a slip of a lad."

"You did?" I said, watching her pump my hand some more.

"Oh, yes, when we visited your mother and father. I bounced you on my knee."

"Really?" I added, trying to extract my hand and not succeeding particularly.

"You were a darling child," she continued. "Many was the time you sat on my lap while I read you fairy tales before bedtime."

"Fairy tales," I concurred, still not getting the hand loose.

"Yes, in my lap. You were so cozy and warm. You'd cuddle up and put your sweet little head right…there." And she pulled my hand to where there was. As a gentleman, I shall not specify. Suffice to say that on the general map of things it was a location south of the chin and north of the sternum and that a great deal of mountainous geography was involved.