Case in point.
Way back there, between the Cedar tree and the tree line is a teeny, tiny Grace.

In typical monkey-see-monkey-do fashion, Claire follows.

Claire stops.

Claire is yanked back by that invisible cord.

And look who it is, little miss independent.

A bit of dirt on the knee, but no worse for the wear.

Not even so much as a hello.

I think I just met my 18-month-old self.

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