My kids are part alien. My six year-old son does a great impression of a "Star Trek" horta, the intelligent being that tunnels through solid rock with ease and ressembles a large rock. When he's not making like a rock, he tends to perch like a gargoyle. Whether on a tree branch, small piece of wood railing, or a saw horse, he takes a two-inch toe hold ad balances on it like a pro, just chilling, relaxing, as if he was born to be there. It's really kind of wild.
The twelve year-old is less alien-like and more Alpha, as in a person with special abilities as seen in Alphas, except that he seems to sense directions. Really, he can find anything. When he was two, he started giving me directions, correct directions, to where ever we were going, from the back seat. More amazingly though, he seems to sense directions, as in North, South, East, and West. At home, as an infant, he would sleep in his crib oriented East-West. When we went anywhere, regardless of what direction we put him in bed, where the blankets were, or the directional orientation of the crib, he would always wake up in the morning with his body aligned East-West.
All the kids have amazing memories. It's one of my absolute pet peeves when people think that they can get out of doing something EVER by telling kids, especially, my kids, we'll do it in an hour, or we'll do it later, or tomorrow, or next year, because maybe other kids forget, but mine never do.
We were at a bird exhibit recently where you can get peanut butter on sticks dipped in birdseed to feed the parakeets. The parakeets fly around in this huge cage that people can walk into. Usually, if you are patient enough and wait long enough, birds will come over and eat from the stick while you are holding it. When it was time to leave, my eight year-old daughter didn't want to go and was quite vocal about it. The lady working there wanted to talk to her, so I say it was okay. Then this lady proceeded to tell her that she could come back "later" after she'd gone and seen everything else. The lady then whispers to me, "She'll forget all about it." Yeah, right. I was furious. Of course my kid didn't forget.
Heck, if I tell my kids we'll do something six months from now, then they'll quit asking me about it now and I won't here a word until five months and twenty-nine days from now, at which point they'll ask about whatever they were supposed to get to do--really. Yep, my kids have a super memory. They have to be part alien or part Alpha, or something, right? Thus ends my rant.