A recent word gem from my two and a half year old son - "Dad, don't eat my rainbow."
Quinn clearly has a love for words as the complexity of this phrase - well, it strikes me that this is his first metaphor. And a powerful one as well. It reminds me of the classics - "Don't take my sunshine away" and "Don't rain on my parade" but with a greater degree of depth and nuance. Now I can guess what your thinking. He's two. You are his dad and reading more into this than you should. He can't even get his colors right half the time. Yes, you would be right on all accounts.
But still. Consider this. When he blurted out this gem we were in Florida for his grandmothers memorial service - she had just passed away after struggling with a wicked cancer for two years. A general sense of melancholy and loss hung about. Quinn is a very observant little boy and picks up on these things. So, when he adamantly suggested that I should not "eat his rainbow," I really think he was saying that he'd found a moment of reprieve, that after the storm of events the skies were clearing, his rainbow had appeared in some form. So you see. He's brilliant.