Mind Reader
When my daughter was about three, we started to become convinced she could read our minds. She would randomly blurt out something I had just been thinking. Sometimes I would be thinking something like, “I better get her to bed, it’s late.”
And she would turn around immediately and say something like, “I don’t want to go to bed yet.” It was strange, but at that point, it was all still within the realm of extreme coincidence.
So one day, some of our friends were over and we decided to put her mindreading skills to the test. We formulated a plan: My brother would take her into the other room to distract her and keep her busy, and one of us would choose a random object for us to focus on.
We wrote the name of the object on a piece of paper and passed it around to be sure everyone would be thinking the same thing. We didn’t say it aloud.
Once everyone had read the paper, I threw it away. We stayed together—there was no one who could have whispered it to her, in other words. We then joined her in the other room and told her to sit in the middle and we would sit around her.
She was very excited because she thought we were going to play a game. I told her that the game was for her to guess what we all were thinking of at that exact moment in time.
She got quiet and looked at each of us only briefly before responding with, “Orange. Kitty. Tricky.” That was it. Our cat, Tricky. The guy had written “your cat” on the paper. I always found it interesting how she described what she saw, not as a word, but as an image.
She’s in her late twenties now and still reads my mind all the time. I’m just so used to it at this point, I stopped being weirded out. Story credit: Reddit / Munich11