This morning, my little seven year old was toasting bagels for an early breakfast. His little sister who is five was sitting at the computer when he said "This smell of burnt toast an' coffee reminds me of bein' at Granny and Gramps' house. 'Member that, Mimi?"
"No," she said nonchalantly. "I didn't go. I was just a baby."
I realize that it's true. When my parents were still married, she was so little. It's been almost two years since the divorce, and she may never know my parents as a couple.
Uly, hair shaggy and bleached, freckles under his big blue eyes, explained to her. "It was, like, the funnest thing ever! Even better than a birthday!" And he turns back to the bagel that has just popped up, and Mimi returns to her computer game.