Dey folks

One day I will need to explain to Belle what happened to my parents.  Until then, Belle is enamored with our pictures.  This week she found a picture of my maternal grandmother, my mother and my father seated on a sofa, with me standing in front of them.  Belle asked, "Dey?" I named each one in the frame.  Belle seemed to understand she wasn't the child in the photo and the young woman on the sofa wasn't me.  She made a connection between my grandmother's full breasts and my own breasts.   Then she offered the child in the picture (me as a toddler) my breast.