My mom and dad had been running around for a while, up and down, putting on clothes, and I know that that’s a sign they’re going to go out shortly. I wanted to go with them. It didn’t matter where they were going: I wanted to go with them.So everywhere my mom went, I followed. I followed her up the stairs, and down, and into the bedroom, and out of it again. I stayed as close to her as I could. Then she went into this room and I followed. Next she closed the door but stood there facing the door she had just closed. I didn’t understand it at all, but I stood by her side, as still as possible, looking at her through this mirror. I am looking at her through this mirror, hoping that she will take me with her when she goes out, which I am sure she is going to do. That is, I am sure she is going to go out; I am not so sure she is going to take me with her.