I know this sounds daft.
Life is sometimes exceedingly strange.
Queenie had made a study of my ears for twenty years, oohing and aahing about how perfectly shaped they were. I don't think she's overly fond of my receding hairline or the fuzz that sprouted on my shoulders, but Wolfie's ears have been handled, fondled, caressed and annoyingly tickled more or less on a daily basis for two decades, so I take her word for it that their shape suddenly changed. DNA triggers at different stages of life. In puberty, we change dramatically, as I'm sure you remember. Think of Ayn Rand at age fifty, totally secure in her knowledge, absolutely certain of her historic achievement in defining the sanction of the victim.