I apparently taught myself to read back before my memory extends - my mom tells the story of me being maybe 2 or 3, in her cart at the supermarket, and pointing to the shelf and being all

::toddler voice:: “Rice-A-Roni!”

and she just thought I recognized the look of the box from commercials and was all

::bourgeois child-enrichment happy-happy voice:: “That’s right” (trolley bell-pulling motion) “ding-ding!”

and then I was like

“new flavor!”

and she was like

“wait, what?”

(pointing at the box) “new flavor!”

and damned if the box didn’t say that, and then she got kind of freaked out and pointed to another product and asked if I knew what it said, and I got it right, and she was like *holy shit*

She had originally planned to have 3 kids or so but gave up on going for more because I was such a drain to deal with on my own - like, unless someone kept me in direct eyesight or literally locked me in a room without first-story windows, I would tend to figure out and defeat any confinement mechanisms and head off exploring.