Literary critic

I just found this gem of a conversation. Frances had just turned four.

Frances: The ugly duckling is really a swan? The swan egg got accidentally into the duck nest? How could that have happened? That doesn’t make any sense…!

Me: Uh…

Impeccable logic

On this day in 2011, when Frances was merely four-years-and-one-month old, we had the following conversation:

Frances: Why do I have to go to preschool?

Me: Well, it’s to help you be okay spending time away from me when you go to junior kindergarten in September.

Frances: How long is junior kindergarten every day?

Me: Six hours.

Frances: How long is preschool?

Me: Two hours.

Frances: So how can preschool be helping me? It’s not.

The light fantastic

Frances has a wonderful relationship with light — her lifelong fascination has enabled her to distinguish between two closely related shades of a colour seen months apart. (In fact, she couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the fact that the blue playdough at the play centre was slightly lighter than it had been six months earlier, and I remember that her complaints confused the other children in nearby activity centres.)

Since the age of nine months, she has been drawn to light-emitting objects to the degree that she can’t be redirected, from switching lights on and off to finding our hidden flashlights. I know that it will be an especially difficult bedtime if she has discovered something like a flashlight just beforehand. In fact, in so many of our photos she holds a lighted object in her hand!

Her intense interest has helped me to more fully appreciate the properties of light, even though I can’t quite manage the visual games that she plays with luminous sources.

(In the above photo, Frances is interested in a shiny necklace near her glowing robot. She is four years old.)