I had never thought a think about my clavicle until last summer when a roll of film came back from being developed. Included were a lovely series of photos of me holding my niece, all shot by my 4-year-old son. In none of them did I have a head.
So faced with my headless body all I had to look at was my niece’s sweet face and – lo and behold – my collar bones. Maybe it was the way I was sitting but it was collar- and rib-bone central. I decided that it’s only been in the last few years that I’ve worn any T-shirts that show much clavicle, which is why I’d never noticed it before.
Ah, having children can be so revealing…