The husband and I asked her what she wanted for her birthday, and she said, "I want to spend the day with the tall boy." That's it. No agenda, no jewels or ducks or tickets to a wildly inappropriate rock concert. Just -- could the tall boy come down and spend the day with her? My heart . . . .
Well, sweet sunny girl, we said -- what about a special meal? The grandparents will take you out to eat tomorrow, but what about your actual big day? "Pot roast!" she said. "And chocolate cake. But don't worry -- I can make my own cake. I did it last year, and I'm a much better cook now."
My heart, y'all . . . . And no. She did not have to make her own cake; her dad made a fabulous triple-layer cake for her. This year. Last year, I am humiliated to report, she really did make her own cake. And it was delicious.
So the tall boy arranged a great day for her that involved Smithsonian museums and a fun restaurant for lunch, plus meeting his roommate and saying hi to HER. And no parents, because she's that cool and mature. Look, y'all.
She had a great day, my sunny girl -- whose Facebook is in French, and who sings like a lark, and whose style savvy means that she looks good in anything, and whose friends think she is all that and a slice of peach pie.
It's just so true -- I am the luckiest mom.