Dear Weeb,
I'll be honest, I don't quite remember when this happened, exactly. It seemed to start when you were old enough to talk and the car seat was facing forward, so it could have been any time between ages 1 and 2. Or 3.
I don't remember where we were going, but you were in the back, in your car seat, and we were about to turn onto the main road and I said, "Ooh, look at the mountains, Weeb, they're covered in snow, aren't they pretty?"
You informed me that you made the mountains. And the snow. And your cousins helped you. You did this, you told me, before you were born.
This went on all autumn and winter that year. You INSISTED that you made the mountains and that your cousins helped making trees and grass and clouds and the squirrels that lived on the mountains.
The story had a mystical quality that kind of freaked me out. You were SO insistent. It really made me wonder about what you remembered about before you were born.
When I see the mountains now, especially when they are dusted in snow, I think of you.
Nice job on those mountains, baby. I love you.