My three-year-old is very color oriented. She identifies the world and her place in it by color.

“You need that sweater, mommy? The green one on the black hanger next to the blue shirt?”

These questions she asks, and the answers she gives, always blow me away with their incredible detail. I love these glimpses into their minds.

When she gave that specific answer, about the green sweater, I laughed and tried to remember if my other two went through any similar process. As far as I can recall, neither of them did, not exactly like this.

As far as I can recall. That’s the hitch though. My memory is incomplete. It’s not a degenerative thing I need to be concerned about. It’s normal. But, sad and frightening all the same.

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