Here's the other thing: My son, Elliot: Totally obsessed with dry cleaners. Granted, there's one every block and a half in our neighborhood. But now, the constant dry cleaner questions ("Is that a dry cleaners Mommy?") have morphed into playing dry cleaner at home. This involves taking an article of mommy or daddy's clothing and carefully smoothing it with the heavy part of a computer plug.
My grandmother worked in a dry cleaners for many, many years. Part of me wonders if she has anything to do with Elliot passion for the cleaners. But she worked in the dry cleaners because her best friend owned the store and they'd sit there all day smoking and gossiping. Elliot isn't channeling any of that behavior. I've yet to find a pack of Virginia Slims Deluxe Ultra Lights, my nana's cig of choice, lying around. But he does chatter while he cleans, and his voice is mighty low, so you never know.