The scene: at home on a Friday night, trying to gauge interest in a Disney World trip by seeing how the girls reacted to Disney promo videos on YouTube. Maggie got bored and brought me a book, and then pointed to the main character.
“What’s her favorite color?”
The question piqued my interest. Maggie asks questions and has speech, but a lot of it is scripted. She has asked what we are doing, what we are wearing, where are we going, but never about our personal thoughts. I still wasn’t sure if this was a rote question, but I answered.
“I don’t know, but she is wearing a lot of blue!”
My breath caught again. I looked at Tom to see if he was paying attention. He was. And then…Maggie asked me. “What’s your favorite color?”
“It’s purple. What’s your favorite color?”
“White. Purple. Pink.” (Later in the evening she told me “black.” She just loves them all, I guess.)
“What’s Daddy’s favorite color, Maggie?”
“It’s green, sweetie.”
“Oh, green! Right!” The “right!” I recognized from “Mickey’s Clubhouse” as a reassurance that she knew the answer was correct. She looked at the television, where Mickey and Minnie were frolicking. “What’s Minnie’s favorite color?”
“She wears red and pink,” I said. “What do you think it is? Red or pink?”
“Maggie, what’s Mickey’s favorite color?”
Tom and I looked at each other, both aware of how in awe we were of Maggie. The scene changed, and her attention redirected to something else. And that was all.
And that was everything.