There's a way that you can tell you're the second child. Or the seventh, I suppose, but we only have two, so if either of them is figuring out ways to tell that they are the seventh child, they have some explaining to do.
Anyway, Saturday night, we gave Margaret and Ellie premade ice-cream cone treats. (Honestly, I'm not sure that they were actually ice cream. They may have been "dairy dessert," which is a phrase to strike a chill in the hearts of everyone.)
And Elle thoroughly enjoyed hers.
And then, 20 minutes after we'd given it to her, I thought to myself "Huh, that was coated in peanuts. Guess she's not allergic."