Happy Birthday, Little One

Little One, you're 19 today! I remember the day you were born, when Dad sleepily and begrudgingly took me to the Baker Caper Halloween party (probably because I was whining about NEEDING candy corn), every birthday you've had ever since, and all the funny faces you've made along the way. While you surprise me, every day, with your maturity (and wit, of course), some things have remained the same since you were a wee lass. Let's have a look, shall we?

Your personal hygiene has always been important, and because we share a room, I can't thank you enough for that.


Sometimes you cry, but always for good reason.


You've always been industrious. I'm sure these motor skills would have come in handy had you not shunned a career in plastic surgery (because really, where's an Economics degree going to get you?).


You still make this face when the idea of pancakes for dinner comes up.


You were smiling with your eyes long before Tyra told you to.


You've retained control of your bladder.


You don't judge me when I wear questionable outfits.


Love you, Little One. Hope this 19th year is everything you could ever wish for. And more.