54. Cereal“Should we be worried about this?” Will said, motioning his wife to come over to the sink.

“Worried about what?” Sharon asked.

“Look at Mindy’s cereal bowl.”

Sharon looked at the bowl. “She didn’t eat it all,” she said. “And she ate the cereal without milk, but that’s what she does. I got tired of fighting her on it.”

“No, look again.”

Sharon felt like she was being quizzed, which she didn’t care for first thing in the morning. “It’s half a bowl of dry Fruit Loops,” she said after examining the bowl for a moment. “What should I….”

“She left the primary colors,” Will said, and sure enough, when Sharon looked again, the red, blue and yellow pieces were all that remained. Mindy had eaten the purple, green and orange bits.

“Okay, that’s… weirdly specific, I guess,” Sharon said. “Why be worried about it, though?”

“I don’t know. What if she’s… compulsive or something?” Will said. “Is this a sign that we should be looking into? Will she have to touch each doorknob before she leaves the house next?”

“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion,” Sharon said. “Maybe she’s just showing an artistic streak. You never know.”

“I hate never knowing,” Will said.

Mindy walked into the kitchen, backpack on and ready to go.

“Hey, honey,” Will said. “Why’d you leave the primary colors in your cereal this morning?”

“Dunno,” she said. “I just wasn’t feeling primary today.”

Neither Will nor Sharon knew how to take that.