The Gift

My mother says it's from her Scotch blood (that's Scottish, not that her veins are full of Scotch--I mean, I only drank about 50 mojitos the weekend before I knew I was pregnant but that would mean she's have rum in her blood, not scotch, but I digress)

Miss F has the "gift". The "sight". I swear it. I know dogs, cats and small children are always a bit more tuned into the unseen but this child is freakish, I tell you.

On the morning of the 4th of July, while we sat at breakfast Miss F pipes up and asks "Does a ladder on a firetruck go up to the sky?". Then she proceeds to talk about ladders and firetrucks and climbing up ladders into the sky. Now, given, I may have mentioned the fire truck would be at the parade but I never, ever, even thought they'd let a kid climb up the ladder. As you can see, there she is. Climbing up the ladder just like she'd predicted at breakfast that very morning.

She also knows when Rick is home when we are miles away. She tells her teachers when I'm there to pick her up and she's in the back and has no way to know that I've arrived. They find it eerie and have stories themselves about her 'vision'.

Of course, flying out to Orange County, we walked by the plane and she asked if it was broken. Knowing her penchant for these weird predictions, I got a little nervous. As the plane took off, however, and she started getting upset and claiming that we were going to 'fall down', I got even more nervous. Luckily, she must have had an off day or a misreading of the vibes. Whew.