Eleven Years Ago Today…

I’m amazed LFG, that it’s been eleven years. We have an issue at hand that quite frankly; I don’t know what, if anything to do about. I’ve reckoned on countless occasions that if you had a few brothers and sisters, I’d at least be able to spread the issue across other evolving lives that on occasion, might need some of my shepherding influence. But you are a solo act my girl…and an incredible one at that. And the issue at hand is that I love you so completely and with such depth that certainly at some point, the purity and richness of it is just gonna do me in. Probably the first time some boy with dookie on his shoes tries to kiss you. Yep. That’s it LFG…but then again probably not. For I’m certain that as a result of this issue…this gift of love that I’m convinced is a primal thing that only parents can feel…I’m gonna be done-in over something on a regular basis for the next forever. Please know my love; that I’m up for it and I wouldn’t trade the task for anything.

Today marks your eleventh year on the job…the job of being the greatest daughter a father could ever desire. But what happened? It seems like only yesterday that I scooted home from Sibley Hospital…shaved, showered and donned a pink pocket square for the “baby comes home processional”. Some say that I need to make certain that I love you responsibly. That I love you in a way that's certain to yield an independent, loving, self sufficient young woman with an abundance of life skills at the ready for navigating without me...That I don't love you in a way that makes all other men unworthy. Well we will just have to see about that one young lady. 

Wasn't it two weekends ago that I gave you a bottle down at the dock in Old Town Alexandria? …you, the little milk-vacuum in khakis and keds. And now you’ve the audacity to grow up with such grace, focus and silly-girl aplomb that your fifth school year saw you make only one B on your report card.

So here’s to you… 

My little soccer girl...

My tiny dancer...

My thespian...

My chef...

And silly devotee of your own culinary output...

My designer and project manager...

...for the Hello Kitty Bedroom re-do.

My discerning comrade in managing the ins and outs of drawer pulls and bedroom doorknobs...

My ardent fan who giggled instead of pouted when my first attempt ended up with the in where the out shoulda been...

My sidewalk chalk artist...fancier of no-consequence monograms. I love you LFG...

My partner in the pursuit of fuzzy...realizing that these fuzzy-diced shoddings also enabled another child's feet to be shod...

The rising sixth grader so full of happiness and pride. Comfortable knowing that you have a mother and father who love you more than anything...

The young woman you are becoming. Where's my little girl?

Happy Eleventh Birthday LFG. I couldn't be prouder.

Onward, with love...

Dad