My mother thinks M. is the reincarnation of her mother, my Grammie. For starters, because she is bossy and complains a lot (we say this out of love). Also because she has more than once said to my mother, "When you were a little girl, was I your mommy?" My mother said yes, incidentally. Way to cooperate with the Catholicism, Mother.
More spookily, Grammie hated the song "Kookaburra." R. and S. love it, and we frequently sing it as a round at bedtime. But one of M.'s first sentences was a passionate, "No! No gum tree!"
The other day, sitting in traffic, I reflected on how much I hate white cars. Then I thought about how my grandmother loved white cars. When her stepfather bought her her very first car, they couldn't find a white one, so he bought a maroon one and had it painted white (that must have taken a lot of coats). So I idly asked, "M., what color cars do you like?" She sat up, took her finger out of her mouth, and said firmly, "White."