"If the second one had been the first one there would never have been a second one."

"L, what are you doing?"

"Color da wall."

"Please don’t color the wall, crayons belong on the paper"

"Color da floor"

"No L, if you can’t keep the crayons on the paper I’ll take the crayons away"

"Color da chair"

"Okay, L time to put the crayons away"

"NOOOOO" and with arms like moving windmills she sends crayons flying around the kitchen. N and I must duck and take cover. A granny smith apple green narrowly misses my head while tickle me pink bounces off the chair and into a bowl of cheerios. I belly crawl across the kitchen floor with as the colorful missiles continue to fly around my head. I reach the launching pad and manage to stop the assault. When I finally look at Miss L, I see nothing but those big blue eyes and an impish grin. While biting the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing out loud, I tell her to pick up the crayons, not expecting but, hoping for full compliance. Instead she dashes to the end of the hallway and announces, "gonna get a timeout" and sits herself right down. Then right on cue begins to cry quietly, and indignantly so I can see it's for real.

Just as I am about to fetch her from her self imposed exile N (sensing a golden opportunity to erase what few memories are left from his ‘terrible-twos") executes a brilliant play and says, "Don’t worry Mama, it’s okay. I’ll pick up the crayons". And for good measure he pats me on the back.

And in this moment I see the next 15 years played out over and over again in my mind.