My brother came over for dinner last night. Daphne hadn’t seen him since right after Christmas, and of course, really didn’t remember him. She spent most of the evening pointing out to him that his shirt was blue. And since she had an audience, she was such a little ham. When my brother was leaving, he asked Daphne if she wanted to ride in his truck. Daphne immediately started talking about ice cream. It took us a minute to figure out that she was associating going out the front door (we always go out the back to the garage) and the word truck, to the ice cream truck that occasionally goes down the street. No, Daphne, your uncle doesn’t drive an ice cream truck. Although in her mind that would have made him the coolest uncle ever!