Night before Emma's seventh birhtday. We're doing our nightly ritual and get to the goodnight story. I look over at Emma.
Me: It's the last time I get to read a story to my six-year-old... what happened to my little girl? (I'm smiling but tear are welling up in my eyes - I know I can be pretty pathetic at times.)
Emma: I know! ... Mommy are you crying?
Me: A little bit, but mostly happy tears. I'm really excited that you have a birthday and you are growing up, but sometimes I miss my little girl.
Emma: (stroking my hair) It's okay Mommy. I'll always be your little girl, no matter how many birthdays come.
.... I sure hope she remembers that when those evil teenage hormones start taking over. I certainly will.
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