The obsession has moved to a new level.
Yesterday, Darcy started calling me Wilbur and Michael, Orville. That continues today. She woke up from her nap while I was hanging laundry on the line. I heard something from the direction of her room and looked over. Darcy had -- as is her way -- lifted up the blinds and was watching me through the window.
She didn't look distressed, but I went in to check on her anyway. "Wilbur!" she exclaimed, "I saw you outside, Wilbur!"
So our daughter is now being raised by the spirits of two long-dead bachelors.
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