One evening, we asked our 2.5-year-old daughter a simple question: “How many people live in our house?” We expected her to say four—me, my husband, her, and her baby brother. Instead, she answered immediately: “Five.” We laughed, assuming she meant the cat. But she shook her head.
“No. Mommy, Daddy, me, little brother… and…” She pointed toward the hallway. An empty hallway. My husband and I exchanged uneasy looks. “Who, sweetheart?” I asked carefully.
“The nice lady,” she whispered. “She sings to me when I can’t sleep.” The room fell silent. For days, her words stayed with me. Kids her age imagine all kinds of things, but something about the way she said it unsettled me. Then I remembered something. My grandmother—who passed away long before my daughter was born—used to sing a specific lullaby every night when I was little. A lullaby I had never sung to my daughter.....