The kid has hands

My kid has hands. I first spotted them during my 12-week ultrasound, mainly because they were at the end of his arms. “Look! Our kid has hands!” I showed my husband on the black and white monitor. I remember it clearly, because this was about the time hubby looked peaked and needed to sit down and sip some water. Even though my husband and I have known about our kid’s hands for some time, my kid has just discovered that he has them.
It happened a couple of weeks ago. The kid in question realized that he had these little fists at the end of these longer bendy things. If he bent his longer bendy things he could fit his little fists (almost) perfectly into his tiny toothless mouth. He’s never looked back.
Where once my infant and I chatted about diaper changing, which white shirt to wear (the white one or the other white one), and whether or not Harrison Ford is making good career choices, now I’m the one doing all the talking. E’s tiny hand finds his mouth as soon as the conversation begins. I hate to be rude and interrupt Hand-Munching because he seems to be having a great time. I can detect a mischievous grin behind that tiny mitt while he is making sucking sounds like a large plunger trying to unclog the kitchen sink.
I’m not sure if I should take his hand out and replace it with a pacifier or if I should remove it so that I can actually hear his insightful response after I’ve asked him what he thinks about Bruce Willis getting booted from Expendables 3. (On a side note, how can there be an Expendables 3? Weren’t they already expendable 2 movies ago?) Or am I supposed to just leave it in his mouth. Does this mean, though, that when he gets nervous on his first day of college his fist will unconsciously find his mouth in order to help calm him down?
I guess I’m not totally sure what the attraction is. I’ve tried it with my fist, and it feels wrinkly and tastes a lot like Purell. I hope I haven’t influenced him by telling how “yummy” he is all the time. I really didn’t think he’d take me so literally.
I guess I should stop telling him how “delicious” his feet are.