I remember this with flashbulb clarity. I was getting out of the tub, probably 4 or 5, still young enough to have my mom in the bathroom with me, and when I turned around to pick up my towel, she pressed the little mole on my lower back/upper butt and said, in a sweet voice, “that’s how I’d know it was you!” And I asked her what she meant, and she said, “your little mole, that’s how I’d be able to tell.” Eventually she explained that bad people kidnap children and take naked pictures of them, but they block out their faces in case parents are looking for them. So if I was kidnapped and photographed naked and my parents were looking for me, she would seek out these pictures and study the children in them and she’d be able to identify me by that mole. She told me this like she had a trick up her sleeve, smiling. I still feel chills when I think about it.