"And this is her at eight months old."
"That's great, General Mustang."
"But this is my favorite one."
"Oh, yes, I see."
"Just look at her wittle cheeks. She's got her mother's pretty eyes, you know, but my hair. I think she's got my chin shape, too, and my ears. What do you think?"
"To be honest, I don't really look at your ear shape all that much."
"Well you should, I have phenomenal ears. Oh! And how could I forget this one? See her little dimples?"
"Yep, those are dimples alright."
"She's very adventurous, you know. And so smart, and you should hear her trying to talk to Black Hayate – wait, where are you going?"
"I have . . . stuff?
"Well hold on a second, you just reminded me that I have a whole other album with pictures of her and the dog, I'll go get them . . . oh my."
"No, really, I wouldn't want to put you through the troub- Are you . . . quite alright, sir? You look a little pale all of a sudden."
"I . . . yes, yes, I'm fine. You must forgive me, it's just that you made me think of something that's made me smile."
"Can I get you a chair? Or a . . . a tissue—''
"I can't believe it, Lieutenant."
"Believe what, sir?"
"My god. I've turned into Hughes."