By the winter when our youngest daughter was born, her brothers were old enough to conduct experiments upon her.
They held up a quarter-yard of pale yellow fabric and studied their baby sister’s reaction as it registered, first in her enormous amber eyes, then in her expressive pink-gummed smile.
They went through the yellow line-up: lined index cards, butterscotch game pieces, a golden diamond of honeycomb, bright tape, a stick of butter, loud book bindings.
It was buttercup yellow, with a soupcon of true orange, that made her eyes dance.
Thus they deduced her favorite color was this particular, sunny shade of yellow.
It takes some effort to find unhappiness in yellow.
Certain colors seem to settle the soul.