I remember taking Colby to the beach in Morro Bay, California when he was two. I carried him through the thick sand towards the water. His mom, Sandy, spread out a blanket and we all sat down to take off our shoes. Lifting Colby up we held his hands and started walking toward the ocean. But when Colby left the blanket and his feet hit the sand he began to cry. He hated the feel of the sand on his feet, not because it was hot, but because it was gritty and dirty. As a child Colby didn’t like to be dirty, he liked everything clean, neat and organized. Even at his first birthday we tried to have him do the traditional dive into birthday cake, but he wouldn’t have it. He was hesitant even to touch it. When a little frosting covered two of his fingers he grew concerned, heading towards tears, and wanted someone to remove the stickiness. As much as we tried to encourage him to enjoy the moment of glorious cake, he simply couldn’t bring himself to get messy.