Today, Zachary brought me a picture of a porcupine he had painted when he was three. It immediately made me long for that three year old Zachary, the painter of porcupines (he painted many in that porcupine phase).
"Oh, I miss the little Zachary that painted this. Where is he? What have you done with him?" I teased.
"I put him in storage," Zachary replied, "because I outgrew him."