Sitting at the dinner table, my daughter suddenly turns and looks over her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
She turns back around. “That was weird,” she says. “I heard someone say ‘Yeah’ behind me.”
We go on with our dinner and I make a mental note to talk with my wife.
We’re starting to see more activity around the house. There’s a little bell in my head ringing, signaling that our daughter might become the focus for it.
I also can’t help wondering if, somehow, this is inevitable for her. If this thing I’ve carried for so long might turn out to be hereditary.
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