She is a force you must reckon with if ever you see her. She is the edge of the storm before it swallows up the sun. That is where she exists, just on that beautiful and brilliant tension of light and utter down pour. I have always been under the spell of a storm anyway, so for me, she is the thrill of a lifetime.
"I will do all things by myself, I know how to do, mama!" She barked at me one evening while I tried to help her into the bath. She insists on doing everything by herself, everything. I have learned to back down from her battle cry and watch her fight with the buttons on her jacket, a snack wrapper, or her hair brush. So if you see a little girl walking down the street with half of her curly hair matted to one side, shoes on the wrong feet, pants backward, leftover breakfast smeared across her cheek and her head held high, you can tell yourself "Hm, now there goes one independent little gal."
She is tough as nails. She is tender, so very tender. I wont admit that she uses her baby bother as a trampoline. And I will never tell you she bites or that she's a human paper shredder. But I will say, that her heart is disproportionately larger than her tiny body. Her hugs are strong and warm. She is quick with a sad and pathetic "I'm sorry, I forgive, you can buy another one mama" when she breaks something of mine. She's the only one besides Zander who doesn't mind Gunther's wet kisses in her eye and mouth, blech! Gunther is pretty aggressive even with his love, so we are always ready to call him off "Leave her, Gunther!"
"its okay, he's only giving me kisses, good boy gunther" she quips. But, she has to be holding onto something or otherwise those kisses will knock her flat on her back.
I love her. I love her. I love her.
Happy Birthday sister golden hair.