I've been decluttering our family memory box. Emma, upon seeing piles and piles of cards and old wedding invitations that are being purged, sat down and started collecting some.
"What are you doing?" I asked her.
"Um, gathering some things for my collection," she told me as if I had missed something totally obvious.
"What kind of collection?"
"My junk collection. I love to collect junk."
She is my pack rat child. I find piles and bags of things all over the house that she totally forgets about. Case in point--yesterday I purged an inch and a half of old photos. She claimed them, called them her favorite, and told Jake to stay away from her special photos.
She hasn't asked about them since and hasn't realized that they're gone. And if history is true, she won't either.
