Many moons ago I was a 3-year-old in love with my older sister. She was my favorite person in the entire world and I would have sold my "beautiful blond hair" to be exactly like her. She liked me a lot too - until my mother naively allowed me to sit beside them while Mom taught Sarah to read.

Sarah has dyslexia and I don't. No one new this at the time, so just by sitting with them I learned to read within a few months, while Sarah didn't learn for another couple of years. It was at this point that Sarah decided she hated me, and she would continue to hate me for the next 15 years.

About a week ago I wasn't using my brain and I recounted this old family story to my 5-year-old niece who is currently learning to read. Tonight she popped in one of her reading videos, and after a few minutes I heard her say, "Mommy, you need to listen to this. You need to learn the sounds so you can learn how to read better and you can like Aunty Rachel."